


Nomen Nescio

by yukiscorpio



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-06
Updated: 2006-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: One night, a man with wings fell onto Yukimura's balcony...
Relationships: Sanada Genichirou/Sengoku Kiyosumi, Sanada Genichirou/Yukimura Seiichi, Yamato Yuudai/Yukimura Seiichi





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of the characters is already dead since the beginning of the story. Just so nobody screams about there being no Death Fic warning.
> 
> Originally published on LJ on 6 December 2006.

A year had passed.

Yukimura stepped out of the bath tub and blew out the candles. He knew nothing would help him get to sleep tonight: the candle lit bath, the aromatherapy oils, the glass of warm milk - nothing was making him tired. All this effort made into helping him sleep was only making him more aware of the fact that he could not sleep, and in turn making him even more awake.

Earlier on in the night, Sengoku, who lived next door, came over for a cup of tea. Yukimura wondered how Sengoku was doing. Was he in bed, or was he also restless, unable to stop thinking about what had happened a year ago today?

Wearing warm pyjamas, Yukimura made his way back to the kitchen again. If there was no use in trying to sleep, he might as well make use of the time. Muffins. He could bake some muffins. He was good at making muffins. Sanada had always said so. It seemed a particularly right thing to do, tonight, making muffins.

Yukimura rolled up his sleeves and got to work. It didn't take long, and holding back tears wasn't easy, but he wasn't going to run away from it. He wasn't someone who ran away from things just because it hurt too much. And he wasn't someone who cried easily. It was just especially hard, tonight, to remain strong, to embrace the love inside rather than fall through the hole this love had made.

Pushing himself off the counter, he started putting things away. He could clean the kitchen. And when the muffins were done he would put a candle in each one of them and blow each of them out. And then he would go to bed. He would close his eyes and tomorrow would be a new day.

Soon, the kitchen was tidy and the muffins were almost done. Yukimura untied his apron, hooked it back on the peg-

-and heard the loudest crash ever in his life.

That was perhaps an exaggeration, but whatever it was, it sounded like the roof had fallen through. Not just any roof - his roof. Then there was also the sound of someone crying out in pain.

A thief! A failed thief, for he must have crashed instead of crept into the apartment, but a thief nonetheless. Grabbing the largest knife from the drawer, and also the broom in the corner, just in case, Yukimura stepped out of the kitchen and headed towards the source of the noise.

He could not believe the scene at the balcony.

The sunroof had collapsed, along with all its metal supports. Some of the flower pots were smashed, scattering broken pieces and soil everywhere. On a tangled mess on the floor was a man dressed in white, his back turned to Yukimura, wincing in pain as he flicked away pieces of broken flower pots from himself.

But what drew all of Yukimura's attention were the things on that man's back. Wings. A pair of white, feathered wings, each one easily as long as Yukimura was tall.

The knife in his right hand and the broom in his left, and standing as far back as possible, Yukimura opted to poke the man with the broom first, with the brush end.

Wings immediately folding up, the man yelped and stumbled onto his feet. "Oh dear." Round sunglasses sat skewed on his face, he looked at Yukimura briefly, then surveyed the scene around him. "Looks like I crashed at a bad location." A bit of a broken pot fell from his shoulder.

Yukimura kept the broom where it was, pointing at the stranger.

"You... what are you and what are you doing here?"

"Well..." The man took a step forward.

"Stay there!" Yukimura lifted his weapon to the stranger's face. "Or I'll call the police. Answer my question."

Obviously amused, the man (bird?) adjusted his sunglasses. "My name is Yamato Yuudai. As you can see..." The wings on his back shook, dropping the last bit of debris out of the feathers. "...I'm an angel."

Angel. Yukimura tried to think. Was there something funny in the scented candles just now? Or did the guy mean his nickname was Angel? "Yamato-san, you're trespassing my property. If you leave immediately, I will pretend nothing has happened."

"I'm very sorry." The man bent down and started picking up the things he had smashed. "Actually, can I borrow that?" He pointed at the broom.

"No, it's okay, I can clear that up. Please just leave."

The man shrugged. "Very well." Yukimura could not believe his eyes. Those wings opened up again. They flapped once, gently, but suddenly they froze and disappeared from sight. The man's shoulders hunched and his face contorted in pain.

"...What is it?"

"I don't think I can fly again right away." The man looked like he was in a lot of pain. "Could I use your front door instead?"

Yukimura backed away to let the man pass, eyes trained on his back. They were almost at the door when the man stopped. "Something smells very delicious here."

The muffins. Yukimura had almost forgotten about them. "I'm making muffins." Back inside the apartment, with better lighting, Yukimura suddenly realised this Yamato person/thing/bird had hair just like Sanada's. "...Would you like one?"

Why did he just say that?

"Could I?" The man's face lit up.

"...Go sit over there. I'll get you one."

A moment later, Yukimura watched the angel (could this be real?) sitting at his dining table shove down a hot, just-out-of-oven muffin, and downing a glass of milk as well. Fascinated, Yukimura gingerly sat down too. "So, you really are an angel?"

Yamato wiped his lips. Noticing where Yukimura was staring, he gave a rather dorky smile. "Want to see them again?"

White shapes began to materialise on Yamato's back, gradually becoming solid, as if it was an image slowly coming into focus. Reaching out, Yukimura's fingertips brushed over the feathers. They were real. This man who just fell onto his balcony wasn't a man, he was an _angel_.

Yamato didn't stop him, so Yukimura got bolder and ran his palm along the wing, only to jerk it away when Yamato drew a sharp breath through his lips. "I'm sorry, did I-"

"They're just a bit sensitive right now. Don't worry about it." Yamato glanced back at the wings, "they're like our sixth sensory organ, so..."

Yukimura nodded. Silence fell over as Yamato checked his wings and hid them again.

"So..."

"Actually, could I have another muffin? Please?"

Yukimura blinked, then smiled. "Of course."

He used to only make these muffins for Sanada, but Yukimura didn't think Sanada would mind, now. Yamato easily devoured his second and third muffins, and Yukimura was suddenly glad that he made them. "So. Angels can get hungry, too?"

"We don't need food to live. But it doesn't mean we don't love it." Yamato sucked his fingers clean. "These muffins are so nice... something wrong?"

"No, just... a friend of mine used to say that, too."

"Oh." The angel studied Yukimura's face for a moment, shrugged and drained his second glass of milk.

"Anyway." Change of topic. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can't fly."

It look as if Yamato only just realised the gravity of the situation. Pinching his lip with his finger and thumb, he 'hmmm-ed' for a while. "I don't know, to be honest."

That did not sound good. It wasn't as if Yukimura could take him to a doctor. Would going to the church help? "Will they heal by themselves?"

Yamato nodded. "Just takes time. Looks like I smashed them up pretty good, though. I don't know, it's gonna take a while." He looked up from staring at the table, eyes still hidden behind round glasses that should have gone out of fashion since the 60's. "Say... sorry, I don't know your name."

"Yukimura."

"Say, Yukimura-kun, could I stay here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Just until I can fly again. I can do your chores. I don't need to eat and I don't take up much space." Yukimura was looking at Yamato like he was the biggest moron in the world, but he continued on. "I think there is a reason I fell on your balcony and can't take off again. But often, what God wants from us is not obvious, because He wants us to find out with our own strength. And besides," Yamato scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed, "I don't have anywhere to go."

"I'm not a Christian." Yukimura said, not sure what to else he could say. (An unusual thing for Yukimura, although it seemed to be happening a lot tonight - though, it wasn't often that one got an angel falling on his balcony).

Yamato cocked his head to a side. "That doesn't matter. Different religions are just different interpretations of the same God."

Yukimura shook his head. That wasn't the point; he didn't believe in any God. But now he had an angel sitting in front of him, saying there must be Something Greater that led to their meeting, and today was the anniversary of...

Could there really be a reason?

"Only until you can fly again." He heard himself say, "and only if you do everything I say."

"Everything within reason."

"I'm always reasonable, Yamato-san."

Yamato arched his eyebrows in an expression that said 'we shall see'.

And so it was decided. Yukimura told his guest he could sleep on the sofa, and got him some clean clothes to change into.

"Thanks." Yamato looked at the pyjamas. "These..."

"They're my boyfriend's." Yamato was slightly taller than he was, so Sanada's clothes should fit him.

"Ah..."

"Don't worry, he won't be needing them." Yukimura turned away and headed back to his room. "He died a year ago. Good night, Yamato-san."


	2. Chapter 2

Yukimura could not remember what woke him up, but he did. Perhaps it was those annoying birds again. Turning away from the window, he pressed his face into the pillow. He wasn't a morning person, had never been and would give anything for an extra hour in bed. Since Sanada had gone, this bad habit had got worse, until it became that he would not leave the bed until he absolutely had to start getting ready for work.

Judging by appearance, a lot of people probably would not have guessed he was such a person, but Yukimura Seiichi was not many things that people assumed he was, and was a lot of things nobody would anticipate him to be.

He groaned and lifted his head when he realised the pillow against his face was wet. Fuck. He remembered now, he woke because of a dream. The actual content of the dream was gone, but he still knew its after-effects. Yukimura hated these dreams, hated waking up and crying.

So he got up, finally, and yanked off the pillow case to throw into the wash. He was on his way to the bathroom when the doorbell rang. He answered it.

"Hey, Yukimura," Sengoku was outside, cheery as always, his orange hair as bright as the sun - which had yet to rise. "Just checking if..." he trailed off when he saw how dishevelled Yukimura was, his clothing and his hair a complete mess. The look on his face said he didn't welcome listening to anyone so early in the day, so Sengoku coughed and spoke faster. "I heard this almighty bang from your side last night, just wanna see if everything's okay?"

A bang? Last night? Yukimura's foggy brain kicked into gear and his eyes lit up. The angel! He whipped around, and saw that the balcony had been cleaned up, the loose white t-shirt and trousers Yamato had been wearing washed and drying on the line. But Yamato was nowhere to be seen.

"There was a small accident. Everything is fine, thank you for asking." Yukimura brushed the mob of hair out of his eyes and smiled at his neighbour. Sengoku was a good man. For all that had happened, there was no reason for him to show any kindness towards Yukimura. But even when Yukimura and Sanada were seeing each other, Sengoku had always been a gentleman about it. Memories could hurt, but at least Yukimura had them to cherish. He didn't want to imagine what last night was like for Sengoku. And still, he came to check how Yukimura was doing.

"Well, in that case, I'm off. See ya!"

"Hold on," Yukimura said, just as Sengoku gave his goodbye salute, "I've made muffins, would you like some?"

Sengoku was about to answer, but a third voice drifted in, making them both turn. "Ah, Yukimura-kun," Yamato poked his head out of the bathroom, showing a bare shoulder. "Sorry, could I borrow a flannel?"

The silence that hung over was long and uncomfortable. Sengoku's expression changed, his smile replaced by a scowl. Yukimura shifted, aware of what Sengoku must be thinking and how despicable he must look, having another man stay over on the first anniversary of Sanada's death.

"I think I'll pass on those muffins." With that, Sengoku went down the stairs. Yukimura listened to the echoes of the footsteps, sighed and closed the door. He got a clean towel and went to Yamato.

Yamato was wearing nothing apart from his sunglasses. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"Don't worry about it." He would think about Sengoku later. "Why are you naked?" Yukimura rubbed his forehead heavily, feeling the threat of a headache coming on.

Yamato smiled like nothing was wrong. "I was about to get clean."

Yukimura threw the towel at the angel's face. It was too early in the morning for him to deal with any of this. "I don't know what you angels are like, but here we have something called 'modesty'." Although, the angel was quite an eye-full, with flawless skin and lean muscles. But of course, divine creatures were supposed to be perfect, or something like that. Yukimura looked away. "Aren't angels supposed to be genderless?"

"Common misconception." The towel went around Yamato's hips. "Apologies, I didn't mean to offend."

Whatever. Yukimura couldn't be bothered to care. Right now, he needed a hot drink. Leaving Yamato to his own devices - surely he could figure out how to use the shower - Yukimura made himself a cup of tea and cradling it, stepped out onto the balcony to watch the sky brighten up. Normally, he would have headed straight back to bed, but...

_Why is this angel here? Are you trying to tell me something, Genichirou?_

There was, disappointingly but expectedly, no answer. Yukimura let his arms rest on the fence and sipped his drink, feeling the warmth enter him, and also through his palms. Mornings weren't too bad if he was actually awake enough for them; at least he got some time to enjoy a cup of tea before having to rush out the door.

He jumped when he heard something move behind him. Yamato was there, towel around his waist, fetching his clothes from the drying line. "Is everything all right, Yukimura-kun?"

Yukimura turned back towards the sky. "Yes."

Yamato found a place to stand beside Yukimura. Yukimura thought something about personal space, but decided he didn't care enough to care right now.

"Yamato-san, does Heaven exist?"

The angel glanced at the man beside him. "Yes." He followed the line of Yukimura's gaze, as if trying to find the nothing that the man was focusing on. "Though it's not like how humans imagine it."

"What is it like, then?"

"...Sorry, I can't tell you."

"Is Sanada there?" Yukimura turned to face Yamato, "my boyfriend, is he in Heaven? He died a year and a day ago, his name is Sanada-"

"Genichirou. I know who you're talking about." Yamato's face was solemn, "but I'm afraid I can't tell you that, neither."

Yamato knew. He knew Sanada. Was that why he was here? "Could you at least tell me if he's happy, then?"

Yamato chewed his lower lip and didn't answer.

No, it couldn't be... "He can't be in Hell." That could not possibly be. "He was a good man. There was nothing he could have done that would... except for... for..."

"Yukimura-kun?"

"For being with another man? Would that..."

"Don't be silly. God's love is unconditional; it's not dependent on the gender of the person you fall in love with. If He loves us all, how can us loving each other ever be a sin?" Yamato chuckled lightly, "you're thinking too much. There are things I can't tell you, but it doesn't mean they're all bad. Why don't you try letting it go?"

Yukimura had heard the same suggestion before, although this time, he didn't feel too annoyed about it. "You won't understand. You can't die, you won't know what it's like for us."

Yamato chuckled again. "Of course we can die."

"How?"

"We can starve to death."

Yukimura raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You said you don't need to eat."

"It's not food we need. Angels feed on love. Being close to God keeps us all well-fed, but when we're working down here, it's a different story."

The next question was already on Yukimura's lips: _so what sort of work were you doing when you crashed down here, and how are you going to survive?_ but Yamato spoke again.

"I'm only guessing, Yukimura-kun, but isn't it about time for you to go to work?"

Yukimura checked the time, cursed under his breath and dashed back into the house, but he skidded to a halt. "Get dressed, Yamato-san. You are coming with me."

If Yamato knew Sanada, there was no way he was going to give the angel any chance of sneaking away when he wasn't looking. There were so many things he wanted to know, and he would find a way to make Yamato talk.


	3. Chapter 3

Yamato spent the better part of the working day staring at his own feet. Yukimura would be amused if he wasn't busy with being busy. They were out of the building when Yukimura suddenly realised Yamato was walking bare-footed. Yamato said he never wore shoes because he didn't walk often. They doubled back to the apartment, but Yukimura's shoes were too small for Yamato. He got him to put them on anyway, after pulling the laces out. On the way to work, they became the first customers of the day for a shoe shop nearby, and Yukimura was very nearly late when they finally arrived at the school.

When he finally had a moment to breathe, Yukimura went to Yamato, who was standing quietly in a corner. "Do the shoes fit all right, Yamato-san?"

Yamato lifted one of his feet, looking proud of his white sneakers. "Yes. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me; I expect you to pay for them with work. Nothing is free in this world, unfortunately."

Smiling, Yamato shook his head. The look on his face said he knew better, but he didn't argue. Yukimura wasn't sure if he liked that.

By the end of the day, Yamato had picked up on the basic tasks in the classroom fairly well. Nothing chaotic happened, the students were happy that Yukimura took on a cute assistant, and Yukimura was secretly giddy that he could order an _angel_ around, even if said ordering was only getting him to fetch the gluten-free flour from the middle shelf and the butter from the fridge.

After work, they bought some clothing (Yukimura had some more of Sanada's clothes, but he didn't think he could bear seeing them on another person) before going home. Then Yukimura sorted out his mail, watched a bit of TV, read a magazine, and did everything he could to keep himself from staring at his guest. Yamato was wandering around the apartment, looking at things. In particular, he examined all the photos displayed in frames on a stand. He was probably as fascinated about the lives of ordinary humans as Yukimura was of angels.

Then he was staring at his feet again. He had taken off the shoes and left them near the door.

"Is something wrong?"

"I think I'm not used to walking so much," Yamato looked rather embarrassed, "getting tired."

"Then sit down." It was hard to think what sort of attitude one should use to talk to Yamato. One moment he seemed very knowledgeable and capable of intelligent conversations, the next he was like a child or worse still, an idiot.

Yukimura got back to his reading. When he looked up again, Yamato was sitting very stiffly. "Yamato-san," he put the magazine aside, suspicion rising, "what's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing."

"I'm sure God doesn't like liars."

Yamato pressed his lips together and ducked his head.

Could it be the wings? Yukimura hadn't paid attention in the morning. He got up, stepped behind the angel and lifted the white shirt, whispering a 'excuse me'. And gasped.

Yamato's back was completely bruised. It was yellow-green near his shoulder and sides, gradually becoming an ugly purple near the centre. Two even darker, almost black patches marked where Yukimura imagined the wings sprung from. Surely he couldn't have walked around all day like this?

"This really does not look good." The sight of this made Yukimura cringe; it must be extremely painful. But what could they do? "Would it help to get someone to look at it properly?"

Yamato smiled helplessly. "It will get better by itself, but... yeah."

It would be dangerous to go to a doctor, though. What if they realised Yamato wasn't human? "Here, lie down on your front. I'll try to get some help."

A moment later, Yukimura was outside, ringing Sengoku's doorbell. Sengoku was a paramedic, and someone Yukimura knew and could trust. What happened in the morning, though, was probably going to hinder things.

"Sengoku-"

"Ah, Yukimura, I was just about to go look for you." Sengoku stuffed his hands into pockets. "Sorry about this morning. Yesterday was a particularly crap day and... yanno, if you want to move on, or even if you just need someone to help you deal... it's all good. Sorry. I shouldn't judge you."

Yukimura was lost for words for a while, but finally he managed to smile. "I've forgotten about that already." Sengoku truly was a good man. A little loud at times, but always sensible and thoughtful. "Actually, I'm wondering if you could help me with something."

When Sengoku set eyes on the man on Yukimura's sofa, he frowned deeply. "What the hell happened?"

"He fell on his back."

Sengoku shot them both a disbelieving glare for treating him like he was stupid. "Better go to the hospital. Something could have happened to the spine."

Yamato waved and laughed dismissively. "My bones are fine. Look-"

"Don't get up." Sengoku knelt beside Yamato, sighing. "This isn't gonna get me arrested, right? He isn't an illegal immigrant or something?"

Yukimura shook his head, so Sengoku got to work. Carefully he felt along the spine, asking questions all the time, to make sure nothing had broken, fractured or slipped. Satisfied with that, he sent Yukimura to fetch the first aid box from his apartment. The bruisings were very deep - in fact he didn't know it was possible for someone to bruise like this - so Yamato would have to be patient, Sengoku said. It could take a long time for it to get better.

Yukimura sat on his heels, beside Sengoku. The man began rubbing bruise cream into Yamato's skin, mumbling that this would hurt and Yamato should brace himself. But the angel only winced at the initial contact and after that, visibly relaxed. Concentrated on where his hands were, Sengoku didn't notice the change, but Yamato was melting into the sofa as if he was receiving the best massage in the world.

But after a while, even Sengoku knew something was wrong. The bruises were fading rapidly, the large patch of colour contracting towards two points either side of the spine, until the two dark patches the size of Sengoku's palms were all that were left. The paramedic scooted himself back, nearly falling onto his backside. His mouth hung open but no words came out. Looking towards Yukimura gave him no answers, because Yukimura was wide-eyed as well.

Yamato sat up and stretched. "Ah, thank you, Sengoku-kun. I feel so much better."

"How do you know my name? No," there was a much more important question. "What the hell just happened?"

"Actually-" Yukimura began, his brain trying to come up with any sort of explanation that might vaguely make sense, but Yamato waved and cut him off.

"It's okay, Yukimura-kun." It looked like Yamato was concentrating. His wings appeared, long and majestic, and he bowed as he stretched them out. But they only opened up to a certain point before his face twitched. "Still no good." He said, shaking his head, and the wings were gone. "But thank you, Sengoku-kun. I can tell you're a very good doctor."

Sitting on the floor, Sengoku just pointed, having gone past incoherency to speechlessness. Why did Yamato show the wings? Yukimura couldn't understand. Now there was a lot more explaining to do. "He just fell onto my balcony last night. I'm letting him stay until he can fly again."

"So...so..."

Yamato answered the question. "Yes, I am." Was this new, or had Yukimura failed to notice before that the angel had a very benevolent smile? "Though I'm not a very useful one right now, I'm afraid."

Yukimura left for the kitchen. He wanted a drink. Yamato could handle this. If he wanted to go around telling the whole world he was an angel, and bring trouble upon himself, it was his freedom to do so.

Making tea didn't take long but when he carried it out on a tray, Sengoku and Yamato were sitting together and chatting like they were new best friends.

"...Yukimura-kun asked me the same question already. There's nothing I can tell you and I don't think it's something you should worry about."

Yukimura poured tea and sat down to listen.

"It is something to worry about."

"Sengoku-kun." Yamato tone of voice became a little more serious. "You loved him, yes, but he's gone. There comes a time when you should move on."

"I know." Sengoku glanced at Yukimura. The man smiled gently at him. "But is it wrong to want to know if he's doing well? That's all I want to know."

The angel helped himself to tea and leaned into the sofa, sipping from the mug. His sunglasses were steaming up but he made no move to wipe them or take them off. He sighed with a good degree of drama. "You people are going to get me into trouble."

Sengoku edged himself closer to the angel, waiting for the words. "Well?"

"He's fine."

Sengoku smiled, then he was grinning, and laughing, and punching Yamato in the arm. "He's fine!" He laughed again, "Yukimura, Sanada's fi-"

Blinking wasn't helping Yukimura clear his vision. Something warm and wet rolled down his cheeks, making him realise why Sengoku had stopped talking abruptly. "Ah," he bowed his head, pressed his sleeve to his eyes and let curly hair obscure his face. "I'm just... relieved. Please excuse me."

When Yukimura left to wash his face, Yamato adjusted his glasses, although they were not slipping, and said something inaudible. Was it a comment or a prayer, Sengoku couldn't tell, but he could see why Yukimura had agreed to let the angel stay, as he recalled how Sanada liked to pull down his cap and mumble under his breath. At times, Yamato could look a little bit like Sanada.


	4. Chapter 4

"Sengoku-kun has the love of a doctor."

That was Yamato's answer to Yukimura's question. Yukimura asked him to elaborate.

"Angels," Yamato began as he washed dishes in warm soapy water, his movement making the chore look almost enjoyable, "can get hurt but are pretty much indestructible. There is no need for doctors of any kind, because we heal by ourselves. Sengoku-kun merely helped speed up the process."

"Because he has 'the love of a doctor'?"

"Yes. A doctor's love and care for his patient. A desire to cure the sick and injured, even if it's someone he's meeting for the first time. I did tell you that we feed on love?" Another tea-stained cup was dunked into water.

But what was that supposed to mean? Couldn't Yukimura have helped Yamato himself, then? If it wasn't romantic love angels needed, then surely Yukimura could have helped, too.

The question didn't manage to leave Yukimura's lips. It sounded too accusing. "How about your wings? Could they get better that way?"

The angel paused for a while, considering his answer. "They are a bit different. The wings are a lot more fragile than the rest of us, since we weren't born with them. Given time, though, they should be all right."

Yukimura sat forward a bit. "What do you mean, you weren't born with wings?"

Speaking of which, where did angels come from? Were they created directly by God or were they born from other angels?

Yamato didn't seem to have heard the question. "All done!" He said with a triumphant grin, but his face dropped when Yukimura lifted one of the mugs on the draining board and pointed at the stains still inside.

"Please wash these again more diligently, Yamato-san. After you finish, please go and buy some groceries." Yukimura pointed at a list stuck to the fridge.

"You are so harsh," the intelligent Yamato was gone the moment the angel pouted.

"You said you would do my chores."

"Yes but-"

"No 'buts', Yamato-san. You said you didn't need to eat, but you ate a lot over the last week. Earn your keep."

Disgruntled, Yamato turned the tap back on and washed the mug again. "But I don't know how to get to the market."

"You must have flown over it before."

"But everything's different on ground level. I'm not used to walking."

Yukimura ignored the whining. Now that he was quite sure Yamato wasn't going to up and leave, he was happy to use the services the angel promised. There was something rather satisfying with being able to boss around a divine being (and Yamato even confirmed that he was entitled to do so and he would not go to Hell for it.)

"You won't ever find a new boyfriend if you keep treating people like this."

"I don't need a new boyfriend."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then the human hopped off his chair and left the kitchen. "Make sure you get everything on the list, Yamato-san."

***

The cold didn't bother the angel at all, who stepped out of the building in his long-sleeved t-shirt and trousers when everyone else on the streets were wrapped in large coats and scarves. He turned left, down the small slope where all the second-hand and cheap antique shops were, heading towards the market. He knew where it was, but it would have been so much better if Yukimura came as well. Holing himself up at home at the weekend was not doing Yukimura very much good.

"Oi, Yamato!" Sengoku was on the other side of the street. He waited for a car to pass before crossing. "Going shopping?" He pointed at Yamato's basket. "Yukimura's really using you where he can, huh?"

Yamato smiled and shrugged, totally nonchalant.

"How about I go shop with you, then you come have tea with me? Two's company."

Two was company. Yamato agreed.

***

Sengoku was happy to pay, so Yamato was happy with sitting down together at a coffee shop not too far from home. Sengoku asked for a white chocolate mocha and a muffin (he hadn't yet had his daily sugar-fix, he said) and Yamato ordered tea.

"So, is Yukimura all right? I haven't really talked to him since last week." When Yamato didn't seem like he had an answer, Sengoku continued, "Grief's a weird thing, huh?"

"It's saddening." Their food and drinks arrived at lightning speed. Yamato poured milk into the tea but passed on the sugar. "Yukimura-kun needs to move on."

"He really, you know, loved Sanada. Perhaps even more than I did." Sengoku said, "I knew Sanada first, and had my eyes on him, but then I introduced them and..."

"You were fine with that?"

"It's nothing to do with being fine with it or not, I think? I could say Yukimura stole him from me but... he wasn't mine to begin with. He didn't choose me, that was all. For a while, he was always like, 'I'm so sorry' until I told him to stop being sorry about it and shut the hell up because it was nobody's fault." Despite his words, Sengoku had the look of a man who suffered great loss. "Anyway, I tried getting Yukimura to come out with me, hang out at places and stuff, but he really isn't keen on meeting new people."

"You care about Yukimura-kun a lot." Yamato remarked, his cup of tea against his lips.

"Well, he is still my friend and neighbour." Sengoku offered a bit of muffin to Yamato. Yamato tried some and decided Yukimura's ones were a lot better. "And I just think if Sanada ever saw him like this, he wouldn't be happy. Right?"

"Yes. I think you're right."

The sky darkened early because of winter, and by the time they got home, it felt like it was very late already. They stood at their doors and Sengoku spent some time fishing out keys from his pockets that seemed to be connected to another dimension, for he pulled out an astonishing amount of items from them before finally locating the keys.

"Sengoku-kun," Yamato said as Sengoku opened his door, "you're a great person. I think Sanada-kun must have liked you."

Sengoku froze, then dipped his head and smiled a bit. "Thanks." He looked up again. "So, later tonight?"

"Yes, see you later."

Yukimura was sitting on the sofa, arms crossed and looking unimpressed when the angel let himself back into the apartment. "That took you long."

"I got lost. I told you I would." Yukimura was going to say something else, but Yamato carried on, "anyway, I bumped into Sengoku-kun on the way back. He's meeting up with some friends for dinner and asked us to join."

"Not again," Yukimura sighed. He really didn't want to be, but he was getting very annoyed by Sengoku's efforts. "I'm not interested."

"Oh, but I already agreed. We have just enough time to get ready." Leaving his basket of shopping by the door, Yamato strode into Yukimura's room purposefully, and opened the wardrobe. "I think it'll be fun. Come on, get changed. I think a sophisticated look would work on you-"

Yukimura slammed the wardrobe shut. "I'm not interested. I'm not going."

"What's the matter with you?" Yamato took a good look at Yukimura. "What is it that Men say? Ah, that's it... you need to get laid."

The sound of palm meeting face was loud and crisp.

His face turned away, cheek reddening, Yamato paused for a moment before bending down to pick up his fallen sunglasses.

"Don't make decisions for me. You've only been here for a week, Yamato Yuudai, don't presume to know me and don't try to tell me how to live my life."

Yamato felt his cheek. "So..." The sunglasses seemed to have helped block some of the anger emanating from Yukimura, because the angel was smiling again like he had not just been slapped hard. "Do you want to go for sophisticated or sexy?" He threw the wardrobe door open again.

The argument was on Yukimura's lips, as was the frustrated yell, but both died when Yamato picked out a particular coat Sanada used to like seeing him wear, and held it right in front of his face. "Please? Cos I really want to go."

Yamato, Yukimura discovered, could be extremely difficult to say 'no' to.

"You'll do extra work at the school to pay for this." He snatched the coat from Yamato's hand. "What sort of angel tells people to go get laid anyway?"

Yamato's grin was very, very wide.


	5. Chapter 5

Not that Yukimura was consciously comparing the two - there was no reason to do so - but Sanada was a much more private person than Yamato. Sanada didn't mind meeting friends but he would never get openly excited about the prospect of it the way Yamato was doing.

Then again, Yamato had not had much of a chance to talk to anyone since he ungraceful tumble onto the ground, so his excitement was understandable. By the time they were dressed and ready, his enthusiasm was even making Yukimura feel less reluctant about the whole thing. He would regret slapping Yamato, too, but it was the angel's own fault for being so rude. Yukimura had no idea where Yamato learned the saying 'you need to get laid' from, but that didn't excuse him for using it.

But looking at Yamato now, it was hard to tell if he was totally unaffected by the slap or if he was just hiding it. With Yamato, it was always a guessing game. Yukimura was not gullible enough to believe that the angel was truly a fool, even when he behaved like one a lot of the time. Yamato knew a lot more than he let on, that was for sure. Yukimura wouldn't say he was suspicious of him, but...

"Let's go let's go!"

Yukimura checked himself in the mirror (he wasn't putting in extra effort, but it was basic manners to look presentable when going out for a meal with people, he said to Yamato), then took a good look at Yamato. "Aren't you getting changed?"

Yamato spread his arms out. "I look perfectly presentable like this."

Whatever. "At least put a jacket on. It's cold out."

"I don't catch colds." Yamato said, but wore the jacket Yukimura bought with him on the first day, anyway.

"And it's night, you don't need your sunglasses."

"They're my fashion statement." Yamato smiled and adjusted said fashion statement item. "Don't worry, Yukimura-kun, I won't embarrass you."

Yukimura resisted the urge to sigh. "I don't care about that. But please don't let anyone else know what you really are. You can cause me a lot of trouble."

Yamato's simply nodded and pushed Yukimura out the door.

***

The sun crept under the curtains, casting a line of golden light across Yukimura's face. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, stretched luxuriously, arching up his back as he did so, then let himself drop limply back onto the mattress. It had been so long since he last had such a good night's sleep. This was what every Sunday should be like. Had someone shot dead those damned birds outside? He couldn't hear any squeaky birdsong or loud wings-flapping. Well, perhaps the fact that he had used up all his excess energy, the night before, helped with the sleeping as well.

Last night turned out to be very enjoyable. The food was delicious (and Yukimura had a very high standard when it came to food) and the company was great. Sengoku's friends were interesting and the dinner had none of the cheesy blind-date atmosphere Yukimura had imagined. It was just a very normal dinner with a bunch of nice people. Yamato was a bit quieter than usual but it seemed like he also had a good time, although he didn't want any wine and didn't join in the dancing at the end.

After that, they came home. Yukimura felt light on his feet, but somehow he still managed to change into pyjamas (although checking it now, he had got it buttoned-up wrong). Yamato helped him to bed and he passed out promptly.

Yukimura rubbed his eyes and got up, padding to the bathroom to do his morning routine. He felt so rested that for once, getting up was not an issue. He was a bit hungry, though. What time was it? He should probably make some lunch for himself and Yamato.

"Yamato-san," he looked around the apartment. Yamato was nowhere to be seen. "Are you hungry? I'm going to make some fried rice... Yamato-san?"

After staring blankly at the empty apartment for a while, he finally spotted Yamato at the balcony, his back turned to Yukimura.

From the back, Yamato looked nothing like Sanada. Sanada had a more muscular build and wasn't as lean as Yamato, who had broad but very thin shoulders, the bony type that wouldn't make a very nice pillow. In fact, it wasn't just from the back. Yamato simply didn't look like Sanada from any angle. Yukimura knew if he ever found the two alike, it was merely because he was missing Sanada too much.

He was going to call out again, but he paused when Yamato pulled his shoulders back and his wings appeared. But instead of stretching them out, he brought them forward, as if hugging himself, and examined them.

"Yamato-san." Yukimura stepped out onto the balcony.

"Ah, good morning." Yamato's face brightened up instantly. "Did you sleep well?"

It was indeed still morning, not afternoon like Yukimura thought it was. "I did, thanks."

"Thanks for taking me out last night. I had a lot of fun."

"No, thank _you_ , Yamato-san." Now that he wasn't angry and slap-happy, what Yamato did yesterday was obvious. Although Yukimura didn't like the thought of being manipulated so easily by someone who had only known him for a short time, there was no doubt Yamato's intentions were good and last night was, indeed, a lot of fun. But it was done, and understood, so there was no need to discuss it anymore. He looked for something else to say. "Are you homesick?" He nodded at the wings that Yamato had curled around himself.

The angel looked a bit embarrassed. "Oh, no, I just miss flying a bit, that's all."

"What is flying like?" Yukimura's gaze was fixed on the wings. They were utterly fascinating and he wanted to touch them again, but it seemed such a rude thing to do, particularly when Yamato was injured.

Yamato didn't seem to mind the staring. "Have you ever had those flying dreams? It's rather similar to that."

"So angels dream, too?"

"We aren't that different from Men, except for these things on our backs." One of the wings moved, curling itself around Yukimura instead, leaving itself a little space between itself and the man. "Go on."

"Can I?" Even before Yamato nodded, Yukimura was letting his hands run over the feathers. They were so warm and soft, not a brilliant white but a gentle, comforting cream colour. Yukimura imagined flying with these wings. Being an angel must be a wonderful thing.

"Does this hurt you?" He asked when a feather dislodged and dissolved in the air. "Are they healing okay?"

The wing pulled away, folding against Yamato's back once again. Losing its protection, Yukimura shivered at the suddenly chilly air around him.

"Nothing that needs worrying about. I'll go as soon as I can fly with them, I promise."

"That's not what I meant-"

"Let's get back in, it's cold."

"Yamato-san..."

"Would you like a cup of tea? I'll make you one."

Yukimura put his hands on his hips and sighed loudly. When Yamato had his mind made up about something, or was being insistent, persistent, or plain old stubborn, apparently it was impossible for anyone to get a word in edgeways.

This was a new challenge - it had always been that when he spoke, people stopped talking and listened - but that dork-like attitude wasn't always going to work. Yukimura would find a way around it. "One of these days, I'm going to get you to shut up and listen to me." Yukimura said when tea was delivered.

With his eyes hidden behind steamed-up sunglasses, it was impossible to tell how genuine Yamato's smile was.


	6. Chapter 6

Yukimura wasn't sure what happened (well, Yamato asked him if he had any plan for the morning and he said no), but somehow he ended up at a chapel, attending Sunday Mass. When he asked Yamato, the angel said that he could worship anywhere, any day, but the Mass involved singing. "And singing is fun," he said.

Even with Yamato's loud, and not very good, singing in his ears, the chapel was a comfortable place to sit and think. It was cosy, with chairs instead of pews and carpet rather than wooden floor boards. It was terrible in terms of acoustics (and thank God for that. Yamato's singing need not get any louder) but together with painted walls, double-glazed windows and pulled-back curtains, it created a non-oppressive atmosphere, unlike a traditional church which Yukimura would never step into. He didn't even mind too much about having to stand or sit when everybody else did, although he did feel a little bit odd taking part in religious celebration when he wasn't a believer. Though, now that he had met Yamato, it was impossible to deny there was Someone Greater Up There, and that angels were real, and so was afterlife in Heaven, where Sanada probably was.

Yamato never confirmed if Sanada was in Heaven or not, but he said Sanada was 'fine' and if they really had met, it must mean Sanada was at least at some place nice. Yamato was an angel and angels belonged to nice places. What Yukimura wanted to know was what 'fine' meant. And if Yamato really just fell or if their encounter was planned. So far, Yamato had manage to evade the questions, but avoidance would not always work.

Yukimura gathered the loose threads of his thoughts, put them away for looking at later, and left the hymn book on his seat, ready to leave. The Mass had ended a while ago, but some people stayed behind, talking about parish activities or just chatting amongst themselves. Yamato was up near the altar, talking to someone. Judging by their body language, it seemed like they had known each other for some time. But was Yamato supposed to know anyone here on the ground?

Yamato's friend - they looked like friends - seemed unimpressed with something. His eyebrows were deeply knotted, and he shook his head as Yamato spoke, his disapproval evident in the way he crossed his arms and almost glared at the angel. It was impossible to tell what they were talking about, but if Yukimura was to guess, he would say it might be something to do with him, because the man turned his head and their eyes met for a very brief moment, then the man looked away again, as if he didn't want to be caught looking. But even before Yukimura had the time to start feeling offended, the man turned back to him and nodded in greeting, as if he had sensed that he was being rude.

What a strange man. But strange was infinitely better than impolite in Yukimura's book, and he saw this as an invitation to go up and say hi, which he did. Yamato introduced the man as 'Tezuka-kun'.

"Nice to meet you, Tezuka-san." Hmm, this man was rather good-looking up close, although those eyes seemed to be glaring daggers. "You're friends with Yamato-san?"

Tezuka nudged the frameless glasses that were slipping down his nose. "That is one way to put it."

"Oi!"

"...I do not recall ever becoming friends with you."

Yamato cocked his head towards Yukimura. "Don't mind him. He suffers from chronic constipation."

Tezuka coughed. "An honest piece of advice for you, Yukimura." He spoke as if Yamato wasn't there. "Remove him as quickly as you can."

"A...ah."

Yamato started to look slightly defensive. "Hey."

Tezuka looked like he wanted to say something more, but decided against it.

When Yukimura left, he had gained more questions that he wanted answers for.

"Is Tezuka-san... the same as you?" That was the first question. Yukimura felt stupid for asking it. But if he wasn't, then the fact that he was friends with Yamato would be hard to explain.

Yamato nodded. "He spends a lot of time on the ground because his tasks are quite specific. One really can't mingle with Men if he doesn't live among them. Not that he mingles very well, being socially challenged and all."

That answer raised another question. "So why can't you stay with him instead?"

The angel paused, then put on a hurt face. "You don't like me?"

"Yamato-san." Yukimura's voice was firm.

"You remember I said that there might be a reason to our meeting?" Yamato said, "also, Tezuka-kun is living with someone and I'd rather not get in the way."

Indeed, there must be a reason to their meeting. But was Yamato pretending not to know the reason, Yukimura wasn't sure. It was something he would rather discuss at home, though, not when they were walking through the streets. "You mean he has a partner?" 

"Yes. So it wouldn't be very nice to barge into their space."

Yukimura turned the thought over in his head. If God was all about love, then it was logical that angels would love, too. Yamato had said before, as well, that they weren't all that different from humans.

"Mind you, he would be happy to open his home if I'd asked. He might not look it but he is a very, very good person and always ready to help. So if you ever need anything, come to Mass on Sunday and you'll find him."

So this was why Yamato asked him to come to Mass.

Yukimura looked at the time. It was just past noon. "Let's grab something to eat. Then there's someone I'd like you to meet, too."

***

Yamato's eyebrows furrowed when they stepped off the bus and he realised where they were. Where Yukimura lived, while not the centre of town, was not too quiet. At this place, a half-hour bus journey away, one could almost hear the cracking of burning incense, the rustling of clothes, and whispered prayers.

The building was purpose-built to house the shrines of the rich. Well-located on a hill with good feng-shui, having a family shrine at this place was an indication of wealth and power. Anyone who entered the building had to pass through security, but the check with Yukimura was only a perfunctory exercise - those who worked in the building all recognised him.

Yamato followed Yukimura up three floors, and entered a room, arriving at the Sanada family's shrine. Up on a table against the centre of the main wall were framed photographs of the family's dead and before the photographs, pots of ashes with burnt-out incense sticks and red wax candles.

Almost every person featured in the black and white photographs were old, with thinning grey hair. A few looked only middle-aged, but still very mature compared with the one on the far right, a young man with black hair, tall nose and a very serious expression on his face.

"He doesn't always look like that." Yukimura said, "but they chose a good picture of him, don't you think?"

Hanging back several feet away, Yamato chuckled quietly. "A representative one."

Yukimura lit three incense sticks for each of the deceased. Some of them had long gone and Yukimura only heard a few stories about them from Sanada, but it was only a respectful thing to do when visiting a shrine. Coming to Sanada Genichirou at the end, he lit the incense, placed them carefully in the pot, then got a tissue to wipe the photo clean. "Not all of his ashes is here," he explained. There were small cabinets built into the wall, to store the family's ashes. "Some of it is with his family at home, and I have some."

"They let you have some." Yamato commented.

"I asked for it. Initially it was impossible for me to get into contact with them, because I was suspected to have played some part in the kidnap... do you know how Sanada died?"

"Yes..."

"But later on, the police cleared me and the real criminals were locked up. Then I finally got together with his family. When Sanada was alive, some of them thought I was after his money, but... when the person had gone, nothing really mattered anymore."

Standing far behind the man, Yamato chewed his lip, his frown deepening even further. "I wasn't aware of that."

Yukimura turned around. "Don't worry, nobody was. Especially not Sanada." He smiled. "Sorry, does this make you uncomfortable?"

"No, not at all," Yamato said. Yukimura needed someone to talk to and Yamato wanted to listen.

There was a long pause as Yukimura studied the photograph once more. "But his family are wonderful people. They offered to let me have something of Sanada's, so I took his baseball cap."

Yamato laughed.

"I could have had his apartment. They told me to take it. But I think it'd be too much for me to cope." Yukimura's voice became muffled as one of his hands went to his lips in an unconscious gesture to keep in emotions that were threatening to spill. "I still can't believe it. I used to kick his ass and sort him out, but I can't do anything on my own, now."

"Not true, Yukimura-kun." Yamato stepped forward, hands hesitating, hovering above Yukimura's shoulders, but finally he decided not to do anything. "You're doing very well. There are many stages to grief; now that you're able to talk about it, the worse is over and you're on the mend. It takes time, but you'll get there. And remember that Sanada-kun is well. So there is no real reason to be sad."

Yukimura didn't turn around. "You're right. I guess I'm just... a bit lonely."

Having another person here was strange. Usually, Yukimura came here on his own. But it wasn't the bad sort of strange. He was the one who brought Yamato here, after all. "Genichirou," he started, eyes fixed on the photograph. Sanada stared at him, intense and serious. It made Yukimura want to laugh and cry at the same time, every time. "Yamato-san said you're well. I hope he isn't lying." His voice was small, and fading even further. "I still miss you a lot, so much that sometimes I just... I can't seem to get out of bed on my own. Not that I was terribly good at it when you were here.

"Yamato-san wouldn't tell me, but I know you're in Heaven. It's silly for me to still be sad. But I..."

Yamato stepped back, a very, very quiet presence, and just listened.

There was nothing else he could do.


	7. Chapter 7

The clink of knife and fork on plate was quiet and punctuated what Shiraishi was saying about something interesting he came across the other day. Yukimura laughed, because it was genuinely rather funny. He was having a good time. The food was quite nice, the music didn't annoy him, the service was above average and the company was marvellous.

He wasn't used to being wined-and-dined - he seemed to have only dated men that lacked a taste for finesse, all his life - and within the first 15 minutes they had established that each other wasn't the person they were looking for. The word that popped into Yukimura's head when looking at the man was 'metro'. Not necessarily a bad thing, just not Yukimura's thing. But still, it was a good evening and they would probably see each other again, in a more casual setting. He wondered what Yamato would have to say, this time.

But first, Yukimura would stop thinking about Yamato and enjoy the rest of his night out.

"At the dinner last time, there was a man called Yamato. The one with the silly sunglasses?" Shiraishi said, "would you have his number? I didn't manage to get it last time."

Yukimura laughed. "I don't think he uses a phone." Yamato? What did this guy see in Yamato? "Aren't you moving along a bit fast?"

"Life's short, and fine men get snatched up too quickly."

Yukimura just shook his head in amusement.

"Once you take away his sunglasses and put him in a suit, I'm sure he'd look damn good." Shiraishi rested elbows on the table and weaved his fingers together, and leaned forward so that he peered at Yukimura from just above his hands. "Or straight-cut trousers, jumper and tailored jacket. He'd look positively edible. I can see it."

Yukimura couldn't help it. He had to laugh. "The only edible thing I can see at the moment is my dinner, Shiraishi-san." And he had to try hard to not spit it out from laughing too hard.

Shiraishi wasn't bothered. "One less competition." He picked up his cutlery again. "I'll ask Sengoku how to get in touch with Yamato."

Yukimura just shook his head a bit more. He knew there was a reason why he never went out with metro guys. They made him laugh far too much (both at them and with them) to consider any romantic possibilities.

It was towards midnight when Yukimura got home. He bumped into Sengoku at the bottom of the stairs, the man looking like he had just had a good night out, too. When they stopped outside their apartments, Sengoku suddenly looked up from his keys, remembering something. "Hey, Yukimura, is Yamato still sleeping on your sofa?"

"Yes?"

"It's not very good for his back. I've got a spare bed if you want to borrow that?"

Yukimura gave the suggestion some thought. "I'm not sure if it'll fit in my place."

"In that case, let him sleep at mine, then?" Sengoku hooked a thumb on the pocket of his jeans.

Yukimura wouldn't have noticed the hint if not for what Shiraishi had said earlier. "You do realise he's not human."

"He's got a cute face and a very good heart. And, I presume, something between his legs. That's all I care about."

"You like him, Sengoku?"

Sengoku blushed a bit, but didn't look away. "A little."

The wine must have been stronger than he thought. Yukimura was starting to hear the blood in his ears. "I'll... suggest the bed idea to him and see what he says. And... you know where he hangs out usually." Yamato hardly went anywhere apart from the local area. "So..." Sengoku could do whatever he wanted. It wasn't really any of Yukimura's business.

"Brill." Sengoku grinned. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight."

The lights were still on, but Yamato was asleep on the sofa. It surprised Yukimura. No matter what the time was, Yamato was always up when Yukimura returned from a night out, ready to pounce with his questions. _How was it? Did you have a good time? Was he nice? Are you going to see him again?_ Yamato was more concerned about finding a new partner for Yukimura than Yukimura himself was. In fact, he only went out more now because the angel persuaded him to. He didn't think he'd really meet someone who could replace Sanada.

He crouched down by the sofa and watched the angel's sleeping face. Yamato had fallen asleep with his sunglasses on. Yukimura could agree with Sengoku, that the angel was cute, but handsome? Seriously? Even with those stupid glasses off, he wouldn't-

Yamato stirred when he felt the sunglasses being removed from his face. Yukimura jerked his hand back, blood pounding in his ears. The angel pushed the glasses back in place and propped himself up with an elbow. "Yukimura-kun," he smiled sleepily, "how did it go?"

"...It was nice."

"Wrong person again?" Yamato asked. "Oh well. These things can't be hurried."

"Exactly."

Yamato dropped himself back on the sofa, laying completely limp on the furniture. He stifled a yawn, but was obviously weary.

"Anyway. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No, not at all. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"So..." Yukimura got up on his feet. "Goodnight. Sleep well, Yamato-san."

He got back to his room and shut the door. He felt his face. It was very warm to the touch and he knew it had nothing to do with the wine earlier.

He had not expected Yamato to be quite so good-looking. Until tonight, he had never seen Yamato's sleeping face, nor had he seen him without those glasses. Shiraishi was right. Put him in some smart clothing and the angel would... forget the clothes, even. Just laying there in pyjamas was enough. The angel looked so warm and inviting just now...

Thinking about it, Yukimura hadn't been with anyone since Sanada and that was over a year ago. Living with someone in close quarters and having a social life once more was jerking his libido wide awake.

But God. No, really, _God_ , not Yamato. Yamato was an angel and probably a messenger from Sanada. Anyone but that dork.

Yukimura leaned against his door, shocked at himself. Right. Okay. He really, really needed to get laid.

***

The morning air was so chilly and damp it hurt the inside of Yukimura's nose, but he was anything but cold. He unzipped his windbreaker and breathed heavily as he continued to run, feeling sweat gathering and running down his spine. He had surprised himself this morning, getting up even before Yamato did, then coming down to the park to run the route he and Sanada used to jog along occasionally. Sanada was a bit health-obsessed, and although Yukimura would give anything for more sleep, he would also give a lot for love.

Earlier on, he ran past a group of people who did tai-chi at the park every morning. It had been a long time since he last saw them, but they recognised each other and exchanged greetings. They knew what had happened to Sanada, too - having come from a wealthy family, Sanada's murder was widely publicised in every gory detail - and if they did not, the fact that Yukimura was wearing Sanada's trademark black cap said it all. But it had been a long time and nobody wanted to dig up old wounds, so no one mentioned anything.

Surprisingly, Yukimura found that more uncomfortable than talking about the death openly. Perhaps people felt obliged to offer condolences but found it too difficult for something that had happened so long ago, but still, Sanada was a good man, there was no need to treat him like a subject of taboo.

Yukimura couldn't make it to the end of the route before having to turn back; it seemed like he would need to work hard to get his old level of fitness back. Even climbing the stairs back to his apartment became a feat. And he just remembered there was no food at home to make lunch with. Oh well, he could send Yamato to buy something.

Or not, since Yamato wasn't in the apartment.

Where could he have gone? It wasn't a Sunday and Yamato would always be at home at meal times. Hands on his hips, Yukimura scanned the apartment. What should he do about lunch, then? Whatever, he was going to have a shower first.

The front door opened just when Yukimura made the decision. Yamato stared at Yukimura and the man realised he was still wearing Sanada's cap. He took it off and shook his hair free. "Where did you go?"

"Sengoku-kun's. Got a bit hungry."

Yamato's smile was a bit too cheeky for Yukimura's liking. Was he that hungry? He could have waited for Yukimura to come back and they could eat together. "Well I haven't eaten yet. Please go and get some food. I'm going to take a shower."

Perhaps his tone of voice was a bit on the harsh side, since Yamato looked slightly upset, but Yukimura paid it no mind and went for the shower.

When he was done and Yamato came back with food, Yukimura cooked lunch. The angel hung around a bit, looking over Yukimura's shoulder, but didn't say anything until Yukimura took just one plate and filled it for himself.

"Are you angry with me?"

"No," Yukimura sat down and started eating. "But you've eaten so you don't need another lunch."

"Yes, but..." Yamato sighed. "Sorry."

Yukimura lowered his fork. "Why are you apologising? I said I'm not angry. And you haven't done anything you need to say sorry for."

"No. But I'm sorry anyway." Yamato said.

This was starting to grate on Yukimura's nerves. "You know, Yamato-san, I really dislike people who just apologise for the sake of apologising." Sanada used to do that. He only did it for Yukimura, and Yukimura knew it was because Sanada didn't like arguing with him, preferring to wait until he had cooled down a bit, but this sort of attitude pissed him off anyway. "There are still noodles in the wok if you want some."

Yamato stepped back, away from the table. "It's okay, I don't need to eat." He took another step back. "I'm going out to walk around for a bit."

It wasn't until when Yukimura finished eating that he realised something. That was right. Angels weren't supposed to get hungry since they didn't need to eat. Yamato was lying.

Then what was he doing at Sengoku's-

No. No way. Sengoku only mentioned it last night, he couldn't already...

Shiraishi did say that 'fine men get snatched up too quickly', but, Yamato? Yes, so Yamato turned out to be good-looking and Sengoku liked him and he was a bit like Sanada sometimes, but it didn't mean...

"Nothing to do with me." Yukimura said out loud to the empty kitchen. "They can do what they want if it makes them happy."


	8. Chapter 8

Yamato sat straddled on the chair, hugging its back with his arms. Sitting behind him, Sengoku examined the area where the angel's wings sprang from. The dark, almost black patches seemed to have got larger since last time, and just outside of them, Sengoku could see, were swollen blood capillaries under translucent skin. What Yamato said about it healing by itself had to be bullshit.

"Looks like it's gotten worse." Sengoku put his hand on the area. "Does this hurt?"

"No-" Yamato gasped when Sengoku pressed down lightly, his entire body tensing up.

Medication wasn't necessary, so Sengoku found lotion to help make the massaging easier. When he thought about it, even the massaging or touching were more perfunctory than anything. All they needed to do was to be somewhat close to each other. But physical touch was always comforting. "I can't do any more than this. I think you should go see someone who can help. There must be others like you around, right?"

Yamato relaxed a bit. "Thank you."

Sengoku sighed at Yamato's non-reply. "I don't think you should be doing this to yourself." He went on, not pausing for Yamato, as he didn't expect the angel to have a response. "I can feed you, but it doesn't look like it's anywhere near what you need. These wings are really draining it, aren't they?"

Sick and injured people needed more nutrients in order to get better. Sengoku was pretty sure this was the same for angels. Angels fed on love, but knowing Yamato would one day disappear back into the sky, Sengoku couldn't let himself go beyond "liking" him. His sense of self preservation was pushing down hard on the brake. After Sanada, he had learned to stop when he knew something would never be his.

He let his palm rest on Yamato's back, not moving. "You remind me of Sanada, sometimes."

Yamato's head lifted. "I do?"

"Yeah. But you know, I think it's just because I miss him."

"Sengoku-kun..."

"But I'm not like Yukimura. I've got dates and stuff to go to and I'll find my guy eventually." Yamato's skin felt very hot to the touch. It might be inflamed. But Yamato must know that already. "Anyway." Sengoku gave Yamato back his shirt. "Come back whenever you're hungry. Yukimura can't feed you well but you mustn't starve yourself; you're a patient, remember that."

Yamato chuckled lightly as he shrugged his shirt back on. "Yes, doctor." He cocked his head towards the front door. He just heard Yukimura's door opening. "I think Yukimura-kun has come back. I should go. Thank you, Sengoku-kun."

Sengoku grinned and shrugged. Yamato let himself out, but paused at the door. "Sengoku-kun-"

"You think I'm an idiot? Of course I won't tell him."

Yamato dipped his head in gratitude, and close the door behind him.

***

Seeing Yukimura wear that black baseball cap made Yamato flinch inside. He wasn't doing enough, not nearly enough to help Yukimura. It wasn't that he didn't already know, even before they went to that shrine, that Yukimura was still deeply affected by what had happened and the depth of his feelings, but it had been some time and Yamato once again questioned if Yukimura even wanted to get better at all. There had been times when Yukimura plainly said he didn't want another person in his life, but, sometimes it seemed the contrary was true.

Yukimura shouldn't be on his own. He would get lonely. And he deserved to have someone.

Some things could not be rushed, but Yamato did not want to stay any longer than he had to, as well. The longer he stayed the more difficult it would get to leave.

He went down the small slope from the apartment building, and made a turn for the park, but halted mid-step when he heard his name being called.

"Tezuka." Yamato nudged his sunglasses. "What are you doing here?"

Having followed behind for several minutes trying to catch Yamato's attention, Tezuka looked a bit annoyed, although that might just be his usual expression.

"I have checked. You have gone through the proper channels for this work. I apologise for what I said last time."

They continued into the park. "Don't worry about it." Yamato was wary. "You didn't come here just to say that, right?"

"Although you have obtained approval, I personally disagree with this work."

"With all due respect, I don't care whether you agree with it or not."

They walked along the joggers' path until they came across a group of tai-chi practitioners, and stopped to watch for a bit. Yamato was starting to feel a faint heat and tingling in his back. "Tezuka..."

"Why don't you go back and let me take over? I will see to it that Yukimura Seiichi overcomes his grief."

Yamato nudged his glasses again. "Thanks, but..." Tezuka sincerely cared. Just by being near him, Yamato could feel his hunger subsiding and his injured wings getting a bit better. Angels knew how to love; Men often did not. Men were always too afraid. But who could blame them? Men were so fragile.

Tezuka took a step to bring himself face to face with Yamato. He wanted to persuade him, but the look on Yamato's face was familiar - the same one Tezuka saw in the mirror when he was determined to do something no matter the cost. He sighed and embraced Yamato instead.

"Let me know if you need any help."

"Will do, thanks."

***

The rest of the day was peaceful. Yamato went back to the apartment before dark, and helped Yukimura try out some new recipes he was writing for the school, which became the dinner. What happened earlier wasn't discussed, or, in Yamato's usual fashion, was simply ignored as if nothing had happened. It was just like that time when he remained unperturbed even when Yukimura slapped him across the face.

Yukimura looked at his hand. All this thinking was making him feel like he had wronged the angel, somehow, even though Yamato did bring it all upon himself. But he was being kind to Yamato already. What more was he supposed to do?

Yamato made tea. Yukimura sipped his mug of tea with just the right amount of milk and sugar, and wondered if angels were all fast learners like Yamato. He didn't mind spending evenings like this one with him. It was rather calming, comforting... a bit like that time the angel had his wing around him... how could he call it? It was a bit - just a tiny little bit - like having Sanada around. Like there was nothing he ever needed to worry about.

But it wasn't an unnatural thing to feel. Although Yamato could not fly right now, he was still a divine being and surely anyone sharing the same roof with him would feel the same.

"Is there something on your mind, Yukimura-kun?"

Yamato was looking at him. Yukimura shook his head. Eyes glancing over the blanket and pillow at the far end of the sofa, he remembered about the conversation last night. "Ah, would you prefer to sleep on a proper bed, Yamato-san? The sofa isn't very good for you."

Yamato very slowly lowered his cup of tea and cocked his head in slight confusion... or was it alarm? It took Yukimura a moment to follow the angel's trail of thought: there was only one bed in the apartment - the double bed in Yukimura's room.

Feeling his whole face heat up instantly, Yukimura avoided eye contact and looked down at his tea instead. "Sengoku said he's got a spare bed you can borrow. Or you can just stay at his place."

"Oh the sofa's fine." Yamato petted the furniture he was sitting on. "Please don't throw me out?"

Yukimura continued to stare into his tea. Why was he seeing Yamato in his bed? With no clothes on? "I don't mind you staying... as long as you do the chores..." Sanada. He should think about Sanada. "Did you know that Sanada hated doing housework?"

Yamato put the tea down. "Hmm?"

"His family was rich, so he grew up never having to do things like that. Whenever he stayed over here with me, he just wouldn't help me with the housework," Yukimura said. "He said he'd rather get someone in to do it for us, but I didn't want that. This is my space, I don't like letting any random person in. But Sanada never really understood. We had a few fights over it."

Yamato nudged his glasses and nodded in understanding.

"But when it came down to it... he earned more than I did, had a career rather than a job, whereas I'm only good in the kitchen... it made me feel like I was a housewife. I just wanted him to share a bit of what I did so that, I don't know, I wouldn't feel like I was being treated like a woman."

It took a while for Yamato to form a response. "That's... understandable."

"But don't tell him that when you go back and see him. Just tell him I said he's a lazy bastard."

Yamato chuckled. "All right." He leaned forward a bit. "But I don't think you are in any way less important or inferior to him. Would Sanada-kun really settle for someone who he did not think highly of?"

That made Yukimura smile. He did kick Sanada's ass a lot in other areas of life.

"And it is said that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. You do make the most amazing muffins."

Yukimura felt a lot better when he went to bed. Talking about Sanada was something he avoided at first, when the wound was still fresh, but now, even though it hurt, talking about Sanada was a joy. Did the difference lie in finding the right person to talk to, or him getting stronger?

He turned onto his side, his gaze settling on the black cap on the night stand, its outline only just about visible, lit by moonlight creeping through the gaps of the curtains.

_Thank you for sending Yamato-san here, Genichirou._


	9. Chapter 9

Yukimura's class consisted entirely of women, all of them middle-aged or beyond, with wedding rings and many other glittering rings on their fingers. All of these were removed at the beginning of each lesson, and stored away lovingly in beautiful handbags, as if they were the jewels of their happiness.

Today's lesson was bread-making. During the first and second rise, they turned on their mobile phones again to check for messages, then sat around to chit-chat as Yukimura and Yamato cleared up and made preparations for the rest of the lesson. Yamato turned when he heard giggling laughter erupt from the group, next door. He made his way towards Yukimura.

"Who are these people?"

"They're housewives," Yukimura said as he checked the temperature of the ovens. "They don't work, so they come here to make use of their time, learn recipes that would please their husbands, and make new friends."

"Ah, I see."

"I learn a lot from them, just listening to them talking about their lives." Yukimura smiled.

Yamato was curious. "What sort of things?"

"Like what to do when your man comes home from a bad day at work. Little tricks for the home. How to make a perfect cup of ginger tea." Compared with Yamato, Sanada never showed this much interest in Yukimura's working life. But he was so busy with his family business to ever visit Yukimura at work, anyway. "I am probably a bit of a housewife myself, after all... Yamato-san, please finish the rest of the preparations. I'm going to get the girls to look at the dough they've made."

The giggling did not stop when Yukimura returned to the main classroom area. In fact, it seemed to have got louder. Deciding the bread dough could wait another five minutes, Yukimura helped himself to a seat. "What are you girls laughing about?"

The women looked at one another. After a lot of visible nudging, one of them was elected to be the spokesperson. "Yukimura-kun," her eyes shifted, and the others urged her to continue, "what's... your relationship with Yamato-kun?"

"What do you mean..." Yukimura started, but then understood. "Girls!" Okay, perhaps he was not the straightest looking guy out there, but to ask questions like that?

"So, what sort of a relationship?" The women looked expectantly at him.

Yukimura's cheeks reddened. "No relationship whatsoever." He pulled back, eyes wide in a scandalised look. "None at all."

Another woman, old enough to be Yukimura's mother, spoke. "But he's cute. The two of you look good together."

Yukimura's face heated up further, making the women giggle again. He stood. "There is no 'together' at all. Say what you want, but he's only in town for the time being."

The group looked surprised. "You could persuade him to stay!"

"Or we could check on the dough and see if it's ready to go into the oven."

Yukimura escaped from the little circle of seats. Everyone fell silent for a moment, then the quiet laughter resumed. Yamato was at the door, his face a little bit flushed. He nudged his sunglasses and said that the ovens were ready.

Yukimura glared at the women, and could not look at Yamato in the eye for the rest of the lesson.

***

Yukimura let Yamato handle the onions. Yamato said he couldn't cook (not a surprise since he didn't need to eat), but he could wield a knife (what did that say about angels?) so Yukimura told him to chop the onions, because he cried rivers every time he had to do it himself.

Curry was on the menu tonight since the bread Yukimura baked in class was best for dipping into things. With all the ingredients in the pot, he stirred the curry slowly with a ladle. He liked watching things cook, the way individual parts become a greater whole, each enhancing the other's flavour. It was a relaxing thing. Although, he wasn't feeling particularly comfortable right now.

Yamato was perched on a stool nearby, watching. After this afternoon, Yukimura became aware of just how domestic and _married_ they looked. Should he talk about it? Apologise on behalf of the ladies and have a bit of a laugh over it? Or should he forget the whole thing? Why was he even worrying about this at all?

"You look like you're thinking very hard." Yamato remarked, not moving from his spot.

Yukimura wondered if he was that easy to read. "Just thinking about what the girls said today." He laughed as naturally as he could. "How girls will always be girls, no matter what their age."

"If you prefer, I can do something else when you go to work..."

"Yamato-san, you've forgotten that helping me at class is part of your payment for staying here. It's not a choice for you to-" Yukimura turned to look at Yamato, then quickly turned back to his cooking. Yamato's face was red. "...make." He managed to finish the sentence after a rather obvious pause. Yamato was embarrassed. The knowledge made Yukimura feel even more embarrassed.

They sat down to eat.

"So... Yamato-san, do you have a partner?" Why did he ask that? Why not? It was a perfectly normal topic. Perfectly normal. It wasn't as if Yukimura was curious. Okay, perhaps a little, he was. But not _that_ sort of curious.

"Oh. No, I don't." Yamato broken open his roll of bread and didn't look up.

Yamato was good-looking, kind, living under his roof and _available_. _Oh no._ Yukimura thought to himself. _Go get yourself laid, Seiichi._ "What are angels like, then? Is it like down here or is it some form of polyamory?"

The angel didn't answer right away. It seemed like he was looking for the best way to explain. "It's neither." He lowered his fork. "We are more like some of the animals in the world, if you must compare. An angel finds one partner and will definitely stay with that partner forever."

"Forever..." Eternity. What a luxury, what a privilege to have literally all the time in the world.

"And like some animals, angels aren't afraid to love. We love and care for each other and aren't afraid to show it."

"You talk like humans are a cold, loveless race."

"Not so. Men are afraid of getting hurt and so they're afraid to love. Wrong race, wrong gender, different status... these mean nothing to us. But Men are fragile. They create rules to contain their fears, but then hurt themselves when they try to break free of these barbed wired rules they've put up themselves."

It sort of made sense, once Yukimura wrapped his mind around the idea.

"If you're afraid of how it would end, then you would never let it start. But love is not about what happens in the end - it doesn't end. Love is about the process, the part where, you know, you're actually loving someone. That's the only part that matters. Once you understand that, then you'll keep on loving and there won't ever be an end."

But how about when one of you was dead?

"About Sanada-kun," Yamato continued as if he read Yukimura's thought, "moving on doesn't mean you have to stop loving him or you are betraying him. There are different ways to love a person. Keep him in your heart or forget him, it doesn't matter because you have loved him and the process had enriched your life and helped you grow. And you continue to grow. And so the process of love continues. As long as you can embrace this idea, the process will always continue."

The silence that fell over was long. Yukimura tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, had another bite of the dinner, and studied Yamato's perfectly serious, yet very gentle, expression.

"I think... this is too much enlightenment for me all at once," he finally said.

"It is mind bending for those who haven't met God." Yamato was eating and talking at the same time, which somewhat took away the impact of his words. "Sleep over it. Try it. The best way to learn is through hands-on experience."

Yukimura chewed on a piece of chicken and rolled his mind over it. Try it? Maybe one day. He would promise nothing yet.

"So... going back to what you said about forgetting the rules and not being afraid... would you say that you love Tezuka-san?"

"Of course I do. And I know it's the same for him - but not the same way as he loves his partner."

"And Sengoku?"

"Certainly."

"And..."

"And you. Definitely, and very much."

Did Yamato's tone of voice sound slightly different just now? No, it had to be his imagination. The angel couldn't possibly have meant anything different. He was the one making Yukimura go out so often to meet new people and go on dates.

Yukimura looked up from his food, but at the same time the angel dipped his head and he couldn't see his face properly.

"Although, you do slap _hard_." Yamato said, chuckling.

 _I'm sorry, Yamato-san._ "That was your own fault."

"It was, it was." _It's okay._

Yes. Yamato was an angel. Yukimura knew this since the beginning, but this was the first time he fully appreciated all that Yamato was. It wasn't because Yamato had wings, nor that he had a bottomless stomach even though he didn't need to eat, but that he was the manifestation of all that was kind and good, of selflessness and forgiveness, and of unconditional love.

Suddenly, Yukimura wished Yamato could stay forever.


	10. Chapter 10

Winter had started long ago, but within the short space of a few days, it landed hard and fast. The near-freezing temperature seemed to guarantee a white Christmas, and every morning there was the lightest dusting of frost on the balcony. It was never enough to stay for longer than a few hours, but it was beautiful and Yukimura liked to watch the scene for a little while every day before work.

If Sanada could see Yukimura now, he would definitely be proud. Yukimura was getting out of bed easier in the mornings, and earlier. Occasionally he even had the time for a bit of stretching and morning exercise - but indoors, not out on the balcony. Letting a cold rush of air inside the apartment wasn't something Yukimura wanted to do to the angel sleeping on his sofa.

Since a few days ago, Yamato was starting to wake up after Yukimura, as if the cold was slowing him down and he would rather hibernate. Which was totally impossible since the angel never worried about the temperature -

\- until one day, he caught a cold.

Yamato probably had never been sick before. Even though he kept on insisting he was fine, it was obviously taking him down hard. He wasn't sneezing much, but he wasn't energetic like his usual self, neither, and Yukimura was starting to doubt how resilient angels really were, seeing the way Yamato's wings were taking their time to mend, as well.

"What are you doing?" Yamato asked over his cup of tea when Yukimura picked up the phone after frowning at him. He caught Yukimura by the wrist. "Don't cancel. I told you I'm not ill."

Even Yamato's voice sounded a bit weaker than normal. "Excuse me but, not ill my ass." Yukimura put his hands on his hips. "As long as you're under my roof, you're my guest and I'll look after you. Now be quiet and go lie down."

"I just don't do very well in the cold, that's all." Yamato took the phone from Yukimura's hand. "It makes me want to sleep. But you should go out and have fun. This is your third or fourth date with this person already?"

That was true. Yukimura did like tonight's date quite a bit. They had been friends for a long time, too, and even Sanada was always full of praise for him. But spending time with Yamato instead was not a loss. Yamato was important, too.

"Yes. So?"

"So you better not come home tonight." Even though Yamato wasn't feeling well, that grin was still the same. "Or I could go somewhere if you want to bring him back."

How could an angel say something like that? Yukimura could not care less about his sex life right now and here Yamato was, persuading him to sleep with someone. But he remembered slapping Yamato across the face that time and knew better than to fall into the same trap. May be he should just be grateful and go on the date. He could come back afterwards and check on Yamato.

"My sex life is none of your concern." Except that every now and then Yukimura imagined doing it with Yamato. It made him feel sacrilegious but he couldn't stop himself. Not that Yamato needed to know. "There is food in the fridge..."

The doorbell rang at that moment. Yukimura answered it, finding Sengoku outside.

"Hey, you've got my parcel?" Sengoku invited himself in and picked up the package on the coffee table. "Thanks!" He was about to go when he noticed Yamato, and he stopped. "Can I borrow you for a bit?" He asked, grabbing hold of Yamato's hand and tugging him towards the door. Yamato didn't resist, but looked at Yukimura questioningly.

"You're your own person, Yamato-san," Yukimura heard himself say, and Sengoku waved at him, then dragged Yamato back to his own place, moving so quickly that Yamato didn't manage to close Yukimura's front door.

Yukimura just stared. Well, that was fast. He didn't need to worry about Yamato, then. Sengoku would take good care of him. Sengoku would take _very good care_ of him. Yamato probably wouldn't come home any time soon.

Biting his lips, Yukimura went out as well. He should do as Yamato said and not come home tonight, he decided.

***

Sengoku slammed the door shut behind them. "Okay, we need to talk." He rocked back on his heels, nervously looking up at a rather puzzled Yamato. "But before we talk, we don't talk. You stay quiet and let me help you."

The next thing Yamato knew, he was nudged backwards until his hips touched the back of the sofa, and Sengoku was holding him a little awkwardly, trying to find the best way to proceed. He fumbled around a bit before choosing to slide his arms under Yamato's, hands settling on Yamato's back and rubbing in small, soothing circles. "Right, I don't really know how this works," he said, voice coloured with slight embarrassment, "is this all right?"

Yamato chuckled softly and hugged Sengoku back. "Yes."

"Now, listen to me and don't interrupt." His chin resting on Yamato's shoulder, Sengoku spoke. "I've been thinking about this and trying to put myself in your position. Here's what I've come up with. You want to help Yukimura. You want him to eventually find a partner. You have your ways of making him listen to you; I can never get him out no matter how I tried.

"Yukimura, right now, loves no one. He might care a little bit about people, but he's hollow inside. I don't need to see you go hungry to know this. Sometimes I talk to him and he just isn't _there_.

"As for you, the environment you're in is lacking in the thing you live on. Your wings are demanding attention and you're getting sick. So what are you going to do? Somebody must love you and it ain't gonna be Yukimura, since he doesn't love anyone-"

"But he can."

"Do you think so?"

"I know so."

"So what if he loves you? I don't think that's what you want. You're gonna have to leave one day. So aren't you at a lose-lose situation right now?"

"Not so." Yamato shook his head. "One, Yukimura-kun is getting better as we speak. Two, you're overreacting. I love being down here and spending time with you and Yukimura-kun. I learn a lot from you both. This is as much an experience for me as it is for him."

Sengoku said something under his breath that could not be heard. It sounded like cussing. He didn't argue, but he would not back down, neither. If he could make himself like Yamato as a friend... right now, it was more like hero-worship, Sengoku knew this. If Yamato was just a dirty preacher, not a dirty preacher with wings, Sengoku probably wouldn't like him as much. He had plenty of other choices, a lot of people wanting to ask him out.

But how could he stop himself when he knew this wasn't wrong? Even if it was friendship, or hero worship, or something else, as long as he could learn to be comfortable with his own feelings, then this couldn't be wrong.

Sengoku's hold on Yamato tightened a bit. "How're you feeling? Is this working?" He felt Yamato nod over his shoulder. "Good."

Yamato wanted to make a comment, that Sengoku had changed, but thought the better of it. What Sengoku was giving him, and his body was absorbing hungrily, was something substantial, sustaining, steady and not confused, unlike what he felt from the man before. But Yamato kept his mouth shut. Some things were better left unsaid, and some things simply didn't need pointing out.

"Should I make you a cup of tea?" Slowly he let go of Sengoku. "Apparently that's the only thing I'm good for."

Sengoku nodded, and watched Yamato disappear into his kitchen. There was something he wanted to say, too, about a secret of Yamato's that he knew. He knew Yamato loved Yukimura, and this love wasn't the same kind he felt for Sengoku, because no matter who you were, angel or man, there was no way anyone would have gone to such an extent to help someone else unless his love for that person ran deep. Yukimura didn't realise this because grief had blinded him, but it was obvious to an outsider.

Yamato had been watching for a long time, before he decided to come down. He knew his way around town, he knew Sengoku's name before they were introduced. He even knew how much sugar Sengoku liked in his tea. Yamato had been watching, or even stalking. If this was someone else, Sengoku would be worried, but for Yamato, all he felt was a heart-wrenching sadness, for the angel had hurt his own wings to come down, not to take Yukimura for himself, but to help him find a future.

He sipped the tea when Yamato handed it to him, and said nothing. Some things were just better left unsaid.

***

Yukimura thought he saw Sanada.

But he blinked, and Sanada was gone. Yamato stood in his place, looking out the balcony, fine black hair lifted by the early morning breeze.

Yukimura shut the door behind him gently. He hadn't expected to see Yamato. The day was still early, he ought to be asleep at Sengoku's. Yukimura didn't mean to wake up and come home as early as daybreak, neither, but he wasn't used to sleeping in a bed that wasn't his own, and Yamato's sickness kept nagging on his mind.

At least the angel was up on his feet again, and had learned to wear a coat when it was cold. Yukimura stood and stared for a while. It seemed like Yamato hadn't heard him. He wasn't sure if he should say something, or what the appropriate thing to say was. _'Morning, Yamato-san. How're you feeling? Yes, I just came back from spending the night with another man. I thought you'd be gone fucking Sengoku.'_ sounded wrong on every level.

Yukimura swallowed hard and went into the kitchen, making sure he created enough noise to announce his presence. 'Another man'? Just 'a man'. He wasn't going out with Yamato, so his date last night wasn't 'another man'.

"Good morning, Yukimura-kun." The voice made him jump. Yamato walked in, and got the kettle before Yukimura could. "Let me."

Yukimura stared at a spot on the floor. "Thanks," he said, and continued staring downwards when Yamato gave him a cup of steaming hot tea. "Are you feeling better, Yamato-san?"

"All good now. I told you angels are resilient."

"That's good." Dammit. Dammit. Why was he behaving like this? There was no reason for him to act this way. Yukimura took a deep breath, tore his gaze off the floor and looked up at the angel, smiling. "I think this is a bit too early for me. I'm going to sleep for a bit."

He couldn't see Yamato's eyes.

"I see. Sleep well, then."

Yukimura would be lying if he said he could tell for sure, but it felt like Yamato's eyes were on him as he made his way back to his room, until he closed the door.

He placed the cup of tea on the night stand, got out of his clothes and went to bed. When he closed his eyes, all he could think of were Yamato's hidden eyes until eventually, consciousness faded and real darkness took over.


	11. Chapter 11

Out on the balcony, Yamato was talking to someone.

Or he could just be talking to himself, since for all Yukimura could see, there was no one else out there, but the way he spoke, then stopped as if to listen, and then spoke again, made it look like there was a conversation taking place. A while later, the angel stretched his wings out, shook his head and reached forward, as if to pet someone on the arm.

Yukimura waited for a while, just watching. He was about to say something when Yamato noticed and smiled at him. "Good morning."

"Morning." Yukimura took a step closer. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"Oh, no." The long, white wings on Yamato's back dissolved in the air. "He just dropped by to say hi."

"Who?"

At that point, Yamato obviously remembered something. "Ah, sorry, I mean Tezuka-kun. We can't be seen flying around like giant birds in the air."

"Oh." The man stared hard at the air in front of him but saw nothing at all. "Would Tezuka-san like to come in for some tea?"

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Yamato repeated Tezuka's response. "He said thanks for the invitation, but he must get going. And you look really hot today."

The last added comment obviously earned Yamato a stern talking-to. Even Yukimura could imagine the look on Tezuka's face, having only meet him once. He chuckled. "Maybe next time then, Tezuka-san."

Yamato ushered Yukimura back inside the apartment. "Tezuka-kun can seem quite scary and antisocial, but he's really just rather shy."

That sounded so cute to Yukimura that he had to laugh. "Your friend is my friend, he's welcome any time. But if he decides to make a visit next time, I hope he uses the door instead. My balcony isn't a landing pad."

Following behind, Yamato was quiet. "I'm sorry."

"I don't mean you." Yukimura still ached from last night. He wondered if Yamato noticed he was talking stiffly, then decided he would rather not know. He should think about something else, anything that would not make him unable to look at Yamato in the eye (or sunglasses, as the case was). Such as, what was Tezuka doing here? Yamato had his wings out... "Tezuka-san was concerned about your wings?"

"Yeah well," they were at the kitchen. Yamato put the kettle on. "He worries about everything."

"How are they, though?"

"I can probably cover a short distance now." Yamato arched himself back, as if stretching. "I won't trouble you any longer than I need to."

They had talked about this before. Yukimura had been avoiding asking after Yamato's wings exactly because of this. This time, though, he grasp the chance and spoke before Yamato had the chance to walk away. "You can stay longer if you'd like."

Yamato bowed his head and nudged at his glasses. "But I wouldn't want to get in your way of things," he said before looking up again. "So how did it go anyway, last night?"

Yukimura turned away. "Good." He didn't want to talk about it. Not with Yamato.

"Good?"

"What if..." _What if..._ "I say that he might be the one?" _What would your reaction be?_

"I would be very happy for you." Behind him, Yamato's voice was apprehensive. "But is that really how you feel?"

Turning back around, Yukimura searched the angel's face. How come Yamato could tell he was lying? "No. But why does any of this matter to you anyway?" Somehow, that sounded much more accusing than Yukimura meant for it to be. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it that way."

Those glasses. Yamato was fiddling with them again. He was just like Sanada, who always played with his baseball cap when he was uncomfortable, as if looking for something to retreat into. It contradicted with that easy smile on his lips. "I just want to see you happy. I fell here for a reason and I think making sure you're happy is the reason."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It might be hard for you to understand, but unlike Men, angels don't have ulterior motives-"

"Stop treating me like I'm stupid!"

Yamato pulled back in surprise, only just in time to push back up the sunglasses Yukimura had reached for and almost removed from his face.

"Say that you fell. I dare you, look at me in the eye and say that... again..." Yukimura's voice faded. Yamato's smile crumbled. Yukimura took another step closer. "Yamato-san? What's wrong?"

Sunglasses hid swollen, blood-shot eyes once again. "I think... I'm allergic to something."

And even now, he was still not telling the truth. "Tell me how I'm supposed to believe that, angel-san."

Yamato mumbled an apology, saying that he needed a walk. He ran for the front door, pulled it open, paused when he nearly ran into Sengoku, then dashed down the stairs. He was out of the building before Yukimura made it to the stairs, and when Yukimura got to the street, he could not see Yamato any more.

Sengoku stepped up beside Yukimura. "What happened?"

Yukimura gave the only answer he had. "I don't know."

"I think you probably do." Sengoku said. "You just don't know you do."

***

At the school, the women asked Yukimura where Yamato was. He told them Yamato wasn't feeling well, which was probably one way to put it. He just didn't know what exactly the problem was. He had an idea, but it didn't make sense, considering the circumstances.

With Yamato absent, the students considered this the best opportunity to ask all the questions that would satisfy their curiosity, but after a good number of half-hearted answers, they realised this was not something Yukimura was going to discuss with them no matter how they probed.

After work, Yukimura went to visit Sanada's shrine. All the candles, incense, offerings and prayers probably meant nothing to the dead, Sanada probably could or could not see him whether he was at the shrine or not, but it was a calming place to be in. For the first time, when Yukimura set eyes on that framed picture of Sanada, he didn't feel as though he was about to fall apart. He still missed him, incredibly so, but he was able to genuinely smile about it.

After lighting incense for the ancestors, Yukimura took Sanada's photo and held it against his chest for a while, before plopping himself down on the floor and setting the picture in front of him.

"How are you?"

Sanada Genichirou looked at him steadily.

"I've been getting out of bed at 7, recently, and going to bed early. I've started running again. So don't worry about me.

"I went out with Yanagi last night. We've been out a couple of times. I like him a little, but I don't think I can ever fall in love with him. You are the only common connection between him and me and, I think... whenever we meet, we're just trying to fill the gap you left. It's not going to work."

Sanada stared. Yukimura adjusted his legs to make himself more comfortable on the marble floor.

"What do you think about Yamato-san? I think I like him quite a bit as well. Does that make me a slut?" He chuckled. "But I don't know if I really _like him_ like him, or if it's just because he's living with me. Living together in close quarters tends to do strange things to people's minds.

"But if I really take it all apart, I think..." Yukimura looked down at his crossed legs and sighed, "perhaps I just like him because he reminds me of you. He said I should move on, so this isn't taking a step in the right direction is it.

"But you know, perhaps I shouldn't believe in the things he says. He's been lying to me. I thought maybe it's because he likes me, too, but..." Yamato was making him see other men. He couldn't possibly like him. But how else could he explain those red eyes, if Yamato hadn't spent last night thinking what Yukimura was doing in another man's bed? How else could he explain Yamato's endless patience and kindness, or the very fact that Yamato 'fell'? Was it really just because he was an angel and that was how angels were like?

"I can't work out what he's hiding from me. What should I do, Genichirou?"

Even if he was talking to Sanada, the person, instead of a photograph, Yukimura knew he would receive no answer to his question. Sanada never as a great master in interpersonal relationships. And what if he found out that Yamato did like him? One day Yamato was going to leave, never to return, the way Sanada did. If Yamato was capable of what Tezuka did this morning, he could even literally vanish-

A strange feeling crept up Yukimura's chest. He turned around. "Yamato-san?"

There was no sound apart from the cracking of incense sticks.

Yukimura shook his head. Yamato wouldn't do that. Odd, silly and even moronic he might be, he would not eavesdrop.

What if Yamato wanted him? The angel once spoke about love being a continuous process, that one should never be afraid of it ending, but could he really do that? With someone who reminded him of Sanada? Would that be fair to anyone?

Yamato was his own person. He was much more than that silly, nonchalant exterior, and not somebody who just occasionally looked too much like Sanada to be real. But Yukimura also liked this Yamato.

"It looks like there is no easy answer to this." It also looked like he liked Yamato more than he initially thought. If he didn't, then this would not trouble him so much.

Getting up, Yukimura put the photo back its place. "See you, Genichirou. I'll keep you updated."

***

When he reached home, Yamato was waiting outside the front door, having forgotten his keys. Yukimura looked for something to say to break the ice.

"Is Sengoku not home? You could have waited at his."

Yamato shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

Yukimura shut the door and sighed. "I don't know which describes you better, silly or stupid."

"I've been called both of those numerous times, so whichever you prefer?"

Yukimura felt exasperated. "Yamato-san."

"Yes?"

He wasn't going to let that grinning face win this time. "You can't just think about what I want and what makes me happy." Yes, he had been a bit upset every time Yamato spent time alone with Sengoku. He would even admit he was a bit jealous. But that was because Sanada sent Yamato to him. Yamato was his angel and-

Yukimura's eyes widened when he realised what he was thinking.

"But that's what I do. It's our job to make Men happy."

"I don't actually care."

The reply was obviously not something Yamato expected, as he no witty response to give.

"Let's stop talking about me, or even Genichirou for now." It seemed to be the only thing they ever talked about. "What do _you_ want? What makes _you_ happy? And don't say that you're happy if I am."

"But it's true." Fingers nudging the glasses once more, Yamato's face was flushed, as if he had just been cornered. "Are you thirsty? I'll make-"

"I don't want tea. Just answer my questions."

The angel chewed his lips.

"On the night you came to live with me, you promised to do everything I say." A hand reached up and plugged the sunglasses off Yamato's face. The angel's eyes were still red-rimmed, and they reflected panic.

Gaze lowered, Yamato gestured for the glasses. "I really don't know. Please give those back."

"God doesn't like liars." Yukimura tossed the glasses towards the general direction of the sofa. "Is there anything you want? Why can't you just tell me?"

"I really, really just want to see you happy."

Yukimura didn't doubt that. "And?" He stepped right up to the angel, and lowered his voice. "What else?"

"There is nothing else..."

Yukimura tilted his face up and let their lips brush.

Yamato stumbled backwards, shock written all over his face.

Eyes wide, they stared at each other for a while before Yukimura dipped his head and smiled. "Ah, it seems that I've mistaken. Sorry. Goodnight."

He went back to his room and locked the door.

If Yamato didn't love him, then there was nothing to worry about. It didn't matter that he looked like Sanada at times, or that he would leave as soon as he could fly. There was absolutely nothing Yukimura needed to worry about anymore.

He got changed and curled up in bed.

If Yamato didn't love him, then everything was fine, except for the realisation that he liked Yamato a lot more than he thought he did, and Yamato didn't love him.


	12. Chapter 12

Sengoku was right; this was the last thing Yamato ever wanted to happen. He'd gone to make himself as annoying, silly, foolish and as childish as he could, in order to become to very sort of person Yukimura would never like, and yet...

He hated to admit this, but Tezuka was probably right - this wasn't something he could handle. That morning, he reminded him that he was walking on ice. "You are who you are, not who you pretend to be," Tezuka had said. But Yamato had already started it, and he would see it through.

Yukimura said he'd 'mistaken' - was he that obvious? If he could convince Yukimura that everything he was doing was because of the very nature of what he was... but how about Yukimura's feelings? He wasn't simply trying to make Yamato happy. The angel could see it in those eyes. And even if he couldn't see it, he felt it, like a dripping, problematic tap had suddenly been turned open and water was gushing out in short, angry bursts.

"Good morning."

The voice cut off Yamato's thoughts. He looked up from his cup of unsweetened tea and returned the greeting, wondering when Yukimura would bring up what happened last night. Instead of avoiding an issue, Yukimura always dealt with things head on.

And Yamato was right. After getting his cereal, Yukimura spoke. "I'm sorry about last night. I got curious, because you're not human. I hope I didn't offend you."

"No, it's okay." Something felt different. Yamato couldn't put his finger on what it was. "Should I go to school with you today?"

"If you want to?" Yukimura smiled, "I'm going to teach the class a Christmas recipe today. And also how to make lemon and poppy seed muffins."

That last word made Yamato's eyes light up. "I'm so there."

***

There were still some days to go before Christmas, but this was the last lesson of the year. Busy with preparing for the perfect celebration, none of the students had much time left to spare. Even during the lesson, the holidays were all they talked about.

When asked what he had planned for Christmas, Yamato shrugged and said he was probably going back home. Where was home? Oh, somewhere quite far away.

How about Yukimura?

"Celebrating with my family," he said as he batted Yamato's thieving hand away from the muffin mixture. Yamato pouted and the class laughed.

The small box of muffins was carried home by Yamato, who grinned like a child who earned a bagful of sweets at Halloween. Once home, he set it down on the coffee table and started eating, not caring that it was almost dinner time.

"Yukimura-kun."

"Hmm?" Yukimura sat down near the angel.

"What are you doing for Christmas?"

"Why?"

Yamato put his muffin down for the time being. "Sanada-kun told me a little bit about your family..."

It didn't seem like Sanada to tell other people something like this, but Yamato wasn't just anyone. "I'm not seeing them. But it doesn't matter." His family had disowned him long ago for being gay and they had never been in contact since then. Yukimura had nothing to do this Christmas. Perhaps Sengoku would know a few good parties to go to. Whatever the case, he got through it last year, he would get through it this year.

"But..."

"Speaking of Sanada, would you be able to take something to him for me? I want to make him some muffins for Christmas. Do you think you'd be able to go back by then?"

"I think so..." The angel's gaze settled on the box of muffins. He had figured out what was different since the afternoon. He was healing and it was happening fast. If he tried it now, he would probably be able to fly. It was because of Yukimura. "Yes, I can do that."

"Without eating it all yourself?"

Yamato put on a hurt face. "What do you think I am?"

Yukimura chuckled and watched Yamato finish his first muffin. There was something he wanted to say and now was probably the best time to say it. Yamato probably knew it too, and was waiting for him to start.

"I've done some thinking last night, Yamato-san, about what you said a while ago, that love is a continuous process and it doesn't matter if I moved on." He said, then stopped to gather his thoughts before continuing. "I think it is a right thing to do, but it isn't the right thing for me. I'm only human, after all."

Yamato listened, not moving or interrupting.

"I loved Sanada, and I still love him, that isn't going to change. I'm happy with it not changing. I don't actually want or need another person in my life. I'm not saying that all you've done for me is meaningless; since you came, I've learned how to enjoy life again, and I've gone out and made a lot of new friends upon your encouragement, and I don't know how to thank you for that except to say, thank you, Yamato-san."

The angel's smile was very small, and very brief, because he knew what was coming next.

"I don't want to hoard you to myself and leech on your kindness anymore. There are others who need your help and if you keep on staying with me, I'll become too dependent on you." Yukimura's smile had no emotion behind it. "Besides, you must be tired of me by now."

"Not at all." Yamato wanted to look away, but he made himself face the man instead. "But I understand what you mean. You're totally right. I'll go as soon as I can."

Yukimura's smile was also fleeting. He stood. "I'm going to make dinner now. Don't eat too much of that." He pointed at the box, then turned for the kitchen, but stopped at the door. "Ah, Yamato-san, please promise me something? When you're ready to go, don't just vanish on me; let me say goodbye. And don't do something strange like wipe my memories clean or anything like that. I don't want to forget about you."

It was difficult to keep smiling, but Yamato managed. "I won't do that. I can't actually do it. We can travel around unseen and do a lot of weird things, but nothing that's intrusive on Men. And I've got to deliver your gift to Sanada-kun, have I not?"

That response satisfied Yukimura, who nodded and went into the kitchen.

***

It was best this way. Yukimura loved him, that was why he asked him to leave, yes, Yamato understood that. Yukimura didn't need to love another man who would leave his life completely. One day, Yukimura might meet someone else, but he should leave it up to fate, nothing good could come from forcing. And so Yamato's job here was done.

He was ready to leave any time.

Yamato looked up at the sky, and spread his wings.


	13. Chapter 13

He'd said it.

Instead of persuading Yamato to stay, Yukimura had asked him to leave. But what he said was true, he was already becoming too dependent on Yamato. Yamato was an angel and he didn't belong here. And even if love could conquer separation, it was nothing if it wasn't reciprocated.

There were a thousand ways to justify what Yukimura chose to do, but none of them could make him feel better. If he stripped it all down, he had asked Yamato, the angel who came to help him up on his feet again, to leave with nothing but a 'thank you' for his efforts simply because he had stupidly fallen for him.

If Sanada knew, what would he say?

Probably he'd tell Yukimura to sleep and think about it tomorrow when he had a clearer mind. Sanada was pragmatic like that. But Yukimura just could not sleep right now.

He heard a sound.

And again.

It sounded heavy, as if Yamato was rearranging furniture, but in the middle of the night?

It was probably from outside, though. Yukimura flipped around on the bed and ignored it. Then he heard it again. It was definitely from the living room.

He threw his sheets back and got up to investigate.

Finding out the source of the sound was easy, believing it was not. Yamato was ramming his own wings against the wall. A shower of feathers was falling around him, all disappearing before they could land on the floor. The wings were bent in a slightly odd angle. The angel's face was contorted in pain, but he took a deep breath, moved away from the wall and-

"What... are you doing?"

It felt as though the whole world stood still during the few moments their eyes met. Blind panic gradually took over Yamato's face. Then he disappeared.

Yukimura stared in front of him. The last feather just dissolved in the air, but Yamato wasn't there anymore.

"Oh no," he ran to the spot where the angel was. No. This could not have just happened. "You promised not to vanish on me!"

***

Sengoku looked up when he heard Yukimura shouting next door, but he couldn't hear the words. It was rare for Yukimura to raise his voice. In fact, was this the first time he heard him like that?

And then, out of thin air, Yamato appeared, wobbling on his feet for a second before going down on one knee. Sengoku blinked a few times, swore out loud, put his pot noodle aside and rushed to the angel.

"What the hell?" Yamato's wings were a mangled mess. They flickered, then disappeared from view. What was this? Domestic abuse? "Did Yukimura do this to you?"

Yamato shook his head. He hadn't meant to come here, but this was the first place he could think of. He hadn't meant for Yukimura to see what he was doing, either. What was he trying to do anyway? It was a moment's madness, because he didn't want to have to leave. And now he didn't know how to face Yukimura anymore. His feelings were unimportant and Yukimura didn't need to know.

"Sorry." He didn't know what else to say.

"Oh shut up." Down on his knees, Sengoku held the angel tight. "Don't tell me you did this to yourself just to stay here, you fucking idiot. For God's sake, if you want to love him then go and fucking love him. Don't say sorry to me-"

He stopped.

Tears rose, without warning, and spilled down his cheeks. He held Yamato tighter, until the angel whimpered in pain, and laughed and cried at the same time. "Oh my God. You bastard." He sniffed and wiped his tears on a sleeve. "You're the biggest bastard I've ever met in my life."

"I'm honoured." The pain was still evident in Yamato's voice, but there was also regret, and a tinge of amusement. "I will be leaving soon, Sengoku. All the best, and thank you for everything."

The doorbell rang. Again, and again, like someone was trying to push a hole into Sengoku's doorbell button. "It's him." Yamato slipped himself free from Sengoku's hold. "Don't tell him. Whatever you do, don't tell him."

Sengoku stood when Yamato did. Yamato pointed at the door. Sengoku didn't want to answer it; he knew the moment he turned away, Yamato would be gone. But he had to let him go.

"Is Yamato-"

Yukimura saw the tear-stricken face, pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked into the apartment.

"He was here." Sengoku choked the words out. "But not anymore."

***

Yukimura went to the chapel. Tezuka wasn't there and nobody knew how to find him. He tried the cooking school, Sanada's shrine, and all the places he could think of, before returning home in the dark.

He stared at the wall which Yamato hurt himself on.

But was it really the wall that had hurt Yamato? But how was Yukimura supposed to know? The angel himself insisted he wanted nothing, made sure Yukimura believed there was nothing, until Yukimura doubted and finally distrusted his own suspicions. Yamato didn't want him to know.

So what was that about not being afraid to love and not being afraid to let it be known? How about not fearing how it would end, because it was the process that mattered? Yamato clearly couldn't do it himself. It was either that, or he thought Yukimura couldn't do it.

But Yukimura was ready. Because of everything the angel had done for him, he was ready. It didn't matter that the angel would have to leave, or that he was like Sanada, or that Yukimura still loved Sanada. He could, would, and already did, love Yamato too.

He just had to find him, now.

***

Yukimura arrived in the morning, but Tezuka wasn't there. When the stern-looking angel finally appeared, Mass was about to start and Yukimura knew there was no point in trying to talk to him until the service was over.

Tezuka sat at a row near the front, but Yukimura knew Tezuka had spotted him, because Tezuka turned around during communion and their eyes met. Time trickled slowly, the priest had too much to say about the Gospel reading, and there was too much singing. By the time Mass ended, Yukimura was about to tear his hymn book into shreds. And still, he had to wait until most of the people were gone before he got a chance to catch Tezuka's attention again.

"Tezuka-san," he walked up to the angel finally. "I'm looking for Yamato-san. He left a few days ago and I haven't seen him since." To hell with greetings. Tezuka didn't seem like the type to use greetings much anyway.

"I do not know who you are talking about."

Tezuka walked away, leaving Yukimura in disbelief. Was he mad? Was this some sort of a game? Did he just not want to tell Yukimura where Yamato was?

"Tezuka-san! Please, this is important." Yukimura caught up with the angel, following him out of the building, to the gravel-covered car park outside. "I need to find him."

"I do not doubt that this is urgent, but I cannot help you."

"You can help me! Just tell me where Yamato-san is!"

Tezuka stopped. He looked slightly annoyed. "I do not know anyone by that name."

Yukimura thought he was losing his mind. Or Tezuka was lying through his teeth. But he wasn't going to give up now.

Tezuka kept walking. "Pardon me for saying this, but if he did not leave a method of contact, then it must mean he does not wish to be contacted."

"Did he tell you he doesn't want to see me?" The urge to grab Tezuka's collar and shake the answers out from him was rising within Yukimura rapidly.

"Why do you want to see him?" Tezuka paid no attention at all to the change of tone in Yukimura's voice. "What would you do if you do see him?"

Yukimura hesitated, but then he remembered he must not be afraid. "There was a misunderstanding between us. I want to apologise and let him know that I love him. I want to ask him to come home and stay with me until he has to go back. Please, you know where he is."

"Would that still be what you want to do, even if he has to leave today?"

Today... "Yes. So please tell me."

"I can only help you if I know who you are referring to, and I do not know anyone called Yamato."

Somehow, Yukimura still managed to keep his fist by his side. "He introduced us! He's... the same as you. You know who I'm talking about."

"There is someone like that. But if you do love him, you would at least get his name right."

"Tezu-"

The angel grabbed hold of Yukimura's wrist before the hand reached his collar. He sighed, and his face unexpectedly softened. "I will say this once more: there is nobody by the name of Yamato."

The anger within Yukimura dissipated when he saw Tezuka's eyes. Tezuka was trying to tell him something. When the angel let go of his hand, he raked his hair with his fingers, trying to think.

"Yukimura, how do you know what my name is?"

"Yamato-san told me..."

On the first night, the angel had said, "my name is Yamato Yuudai."

But what if that wasn't his name? Then who was he?

Who...

Yukimura had not paid attention when they were talking, but a door in front of him suddenly opened, and he realised he had followed Tezuka to the outside of a house. "Tezuka! Don't!" It was Yamato at the door. Tezuka crossed his arms and shook his head at Yamato. Yamato turned to Yukimura instead. "I- there was something I had to deal with urgently and-"

Yukimura ignored the story he was being told, and put a trembling hand on Yamato's cheek.

"Gen...ichi...rou."


	14. Epilogue

Yukimura woke up, got changed, and went to run in the park. The days had got even colder, and it had snowed the night before, but it didn't put him off. At the end of the route, he stopped for a while to look at the snow-covered town around him, before turning back. The group of people who usually did tai-chi wasn't around this morning, but it was Christmas Day and everyone had something special to do, except for Yukimura. Tonight he was going to a party Sengoku recommended, but right now, it was just like any normal day for him.

But still, after he went home and showered, he selected a nice outfit and left again.

The Christmas Service at the chapel had a large turn out. Yukimura sat through it and let his thoughts drift back to that day.

He couldn't remember exactly what happened next, at Tezuka's door. Probably Tezuka ushered him inside. The next thing he knew was that he was holding Yamato, Sanada, the angel who came down for him, and completely overwhelmed by emotions. He should have known. Even if the face had changed, it was still the same person inside. He had fallen in love with exactly the same person again.

"I..." There was no admittance or denial. Yamato just bowed his head. "I've been summoned. I was getting ready to go."

Yukimura closed his eyes. "You won't be coming back?"

"No..." Yamato lost his words for a moment. "Seiichi..."

"It's okay." It was okay, now. Yukimura no longer felt afraid. There was no need to move on because there was nothing to move on from. Love was a continuous process, he would not run away from it. "I'm good, now. And strong. I won't break again."

Yamato left that night, from the spot where he came arrived. Sengoku was there, with tears in his eyes and yet too cheerful even for his own standards.

"Sengoku..."

"Say sorry and I'll hit you."

That made Yamato smile. "You'll find your guy."

"Duh, of course I will." Sengoku had to wipe his eyes.

Yamato embraced Sengoku, and then Yukimura. There was a lot Yukimura wanted to say, but it didn't matter. Sanada knew it all anyway. Instead, he reassured the angel once again that he was happy, and strong. There was nothing to worry about anymore.

The angel stretched his wings out, smiled and petted Yukimura on the head with one of them, and vanished.

The Christmas Service was over. The music ended, and there was a loud cheer, followed by people exchanging season greetings.

Yukimura managed to locate Tezuka quite easily. He had a card and a small gift for the angel who helped him open his eyes. Hopefully Tezuka liked muffins. These were special Christmas ones, with cinnamon and other spices, and a small amount of icing on top. Sanada would have loved them.

"Thank you very much." Tezuka eyed the box. "You have made too much. I would have problems eating all of these."

Yukimura shrugged. "Share them with your friends?"

"I believe that means me!"

Yukimura recognised that voice.

He whipped around, and there he was, that man, tall, with straight black hair, horribly thin shoulders and wearing round sunglasses. He walked over, snatched the box from Tezuka's hands, and grinned.

"Yama...to..." Suddenly, Yukimura felt as though his heart was about to burst. He put his hand on the angel's arm, to make sure this was real. "Why?"

Yamato opened the box and smelled the muffins. "Well, some loser called Tezuka complained that he couldn't cope on his own, whined and whined and _whined_ for them to send help, and somehow my name got mentioned, so I ended up down here again since this morning."

"Tezuka-san," Yukimura turned around, but Tezuka was gone.

"He's shy." Yamato snorted.

"I'll thank him later." His eyes burned, but Yukimura refused to cry. "You are going to stay here then?"

"Yes." The silly Yamato expression was replaced by the more familiar seriousness of Sanada. "This is long term."

Yukimura's vision was blurring. Yamato nudged him towards a corner, where he quietly dabbed his eyes, too shocked to speak for the moment. To have been able to meet Sanada again was already worth a whole life time of blessing; he had never dared to imagine it happening again. How many people could get so many chances in his life? With someone who had died and gone to Heaven?

But he wasn't going to let Sanada win so easily. Eyes dried, he breathed hard, and then smirked at the angel. "Well, I'm glad you're back," he said, "let's go home. My dishes are piling up, the clothes need washing, and the windows are dirty."

"We could get someone in to do all that..." Yamato rubbed his forehead heavily, looking troubled.

'We'. Yukimura liked the sound of that. "Aren't you that someone, Yamato-san?"

Yamato could only laugh. Yukimura rested his forehead on the thin shoulder, and they laughed together.

"Genichirou."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Yamato blushed, but instead of fiddling with his sunglasses, he took them off. He wouldn't be needing them any more.

"Happy Christmas, Seiichi."

**Author's Note:**

> This beginning (angel falling through someone's roof) is lifted from the Cantonese film "Lavendar". The rest of the story is nothing like the film, though.


End file.
